THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


Julian  Mortimer; 


A  Draft)  Boy's  Straggle  for  Hie  and  Fortune 


BY   HARRY   CASTLEMON, 

A  uthor  of 

The  "Gunboat  Series,"  "The  Boy  Trapper,"   "Sportsman's  Club  Series," 
etc.,  etc. 

ILLUSTRATED. 


NEW   YORK: 
A.  L.  BURT,  PUBLISHER. 


COPYRIGHT  1887,  BY  A.  L.  BPRT. 


PZ 


JULIAN  MORTIMER; 


OR, 


A  Brave  Boy's  Struggle  for  Home  and  Fortune, 


CHAPTEE  I. 

THE    WAGON   TRAIN. 

HE  SUN  was  just  sinking  out  of  sight  behind 
the  western  mountains,  and  the  shadows  of 
twilight  were  beginning  to  creep  through 
the  valley,  when  two  horsemen,  who  had 
been  picking  their  way  along  the  rocky  and  almost 
impassible  road  that  ran  through  Bridger's  Pass,  drew 
rein  on  the  summit  of  an  elevation  and  looked  about 
them. 

One  of  them  was  a  trapper — he  never  would  have 
been  taken  for  anything  else  —  a  man  aboul  forty 
years  of  age,  and  a  giant  in  strength  and  stature.  The 
very  small  portion  of  his  face  that  could  be  seen  over 
his  thick,  bushy  whiskers  was  as  brown  as  an  Indian's; 
and  from  under  the  tattered  fur  cap  that  was  slouched 
over  his  forehead,  peeped  forth  a  pair  of  eyes  as  sharp 
as  those  of  an  eagle.  He  was  dressed  in  a  complete  suit 
of  buckskin,  rode  a  large  cream-colored  mustang,  and 
carried  a  heavy  rifle  across  the  horn  of  his  saddle. 
Around  his  waist  he  wore  a  leather  belt,  supporting  a 
knife  and  tomahawk,  and  under  his  left  arm,  suspended 
by  thongs  of  buckskin,  which  crossed  his  breast,  hung 
a  bullet-pouch  and  powder-horn.  This  man  was  Silas 
Koper — one  of  the  best  guides  that  ever  led  a  wagon 
train  across  the  prairie. 


633142 


6  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

His  companion  was  a  youth  about  sixteen  years  of 
age,  Julian  Mortimer  by  name,  and  the  hero  of  our 
story.  He  presented  a  great  contrast  to  the  burly 
trapper.  He  was  slender  and  graceful,  with  a  fair, 
almost  girlish  face,  and  a  mild  blue  eye,  which  gazed  in 
wonder  at  the  wild  scene  spread  out  before  it.  It  was 
plain  that  he  had  not  been  long  on  the  prairie,  and 'a 
stranger  would  have  declared  that  he  was  out  of  his  ele- 
ment; but  those  who  were  best  acquainted  with  him 
would  have  told  a  different  story.  He  took  to  the 
mountains  and  woods  as  naturally  as  though  he  had 
been  born  there,  and  Silas  Koper  predicted  that  he 
would  make  his  mark  as  a  frontiersman  before  many 
years  more  had  passed  over  his  head.  There  was  plenty 
of  strength  in  his  slight  figure,  and  one  might  have 
looked  the  world  over  without  finding  a  more  deter- 
mined and  courageous  spirit.  He  was  an  excellent  shot 
with  the  rifle,  and  managed  the  fiery  little  charger  on 
which  he  was  mounted  with  an  ease  and  grace  that 
showed  him  to  be  an  accomplished  horseman. 

The  boy's  dress  was  an  odd  mixture  of  the  simple 
style  of  the  prairies  and  the  newest  and  most  elaborate 
fashions  of  the  Mexicans.  He  wore  a  sombrero,  a 
jacket  of  dark-blue  cloth,  profusely  ornamented  with 
gold  lace,  buckskin  trowsers,  brown  cloth  leggings  with 
green  fringe,  and  light  shoes,  the  heels  of  which  were 
armed  with  huge  Mexican  spurs.  His  weapons  con- 
sisted of  a  rifle,  slung  over  his  shoulder  by  a  broad 
strap,  a  hunting  knife  and  a  brace  of  revolvers,  which 
he  carried  in  his  belt,  and  a  lasso,  which  was  coiled 
upon  the  horn  of  his  saddle.  From  his  left  shoulder 
hung  a  small  deerskin  haversack,  to  which  was  attached 
an  ornamented  powder-horn.  The  haversack  contained 
bullets  for  his  rifle,  cartridges  for  his  revolvers,  and 
flint,  steel  and  tinder  for  lighting  a  fire.  Behind  his 
saddle,  neatly  rolled  up  and  held  in  its  place  by  two 
straps,  was  a  poncho  which  did  duty  both  as  overcoat 
and  bed.  He  was  mounted  on  a  coal-black  horse,  which 
was  very  fleet,  and  so  ill-tempered  that  no  one  besides 
his  master  cared  to  approach  him. 


THE   WAGON  TRAIN.  ? 

The  trapper  and  his  young  companion  belonged  to  an 
emigrant  train  which,  a  few  weeks  previous  to  the  be- 
ginning of  our  story,  had  left  St.  Joseph  for  Sacra 
mento,  and  they  had  ridden  in  advance  of  the  wagons 
to  select  a  camping  ground  for  the  night.  This  was  a 
matter  of  no  ordinary  importance  at  that  particular 
time,  for  during  the  last  two  days  a  band  of  Indians 
had  been  hovering  upon  the  flanks  of  the  train,  and 
the  guide  knew  that  they  were  awaiting  a  favorable 
opportunity  to  swoop  down  upon  it.  Hitherto  Silas 
had  had  an  eye  only  to  the  comfort  of  the  emigrants, 
and  in  picking  out  his  camping  grounds  had  selected 
places  that  were  convenient  to  wood  and  water,  and  which 
afforded  ample  pasturage  for  the  stock  belonging  to  the 
train;  but  now  he  was  called  upon  to  provide  for  the 
safety  of  the  people  under  his  charge. 

The  road,  at  the  point  where  the  horsemen  had 
halted,  wound  around  the  base  of  a  rocky  cliff,  which 
arose  for  a  hundred  feet  without  a  single  break  or 
crevice,  and  was  barely  wide  enough  to  admit  the 
passage  of  a  single  wagon.  On  the  side  opposite  the 
cliff  was  a  deep  gorge,  which  seemed  to  extend  down 
into  the  very  bowels  of  the  earth.  It  was  here  that  the 
guide  had  decided  to  camp  for  the  night.  He  carefully 
examined  the  ground,  and  a  smile  of  satisfaction  lighted 
up  his  face. 

"  This  is  the  place  we've  been  looking  fur,"  said  he, 
dismounting  from  his  horse  and  tying  the  animal  to  a 
neighboring  tree.  "  Now  I  will  go  out  an'  look  around 
a  little  bit,  an'  you  can  stay  here  till  the  wagons  come 
up.  You  won't  be  afeared  if  I  leave  you  alone,  will 
you?" 

"Afraid?"  repeated  Julian.  " Of  course  not.  There's 
nothing  to  be  afraid  of." 

"You  may  think  differently  afore  you  see  the  sun 
rise  again,"  replied  the  guide.  "Now,  when  the  train 
comes  up  tell  the  fellers  to  take  half  the  wagons  an* 
block  up  the  road,  here  at  the  end  of  the  cliff,  an'  to 
put  the  others  at  the  lower  end.  Then  we'll  be  pro- 
tected on  all  sides.  The  Injuns  can't  come  down  the 


g  JULIA  N  MOR  TIMER. 

cliff  to  get  at  us,  'cause  it's  too  steep;  an'  they  can't 
cross  the  gully  nuther.  They'll  have  to  come  along  the 
road;  an'  when  they  try  that  we'll  get  behind  the  wagons 
an'  fight  'em  the  best  we  know  how.  It's  risky  business, 
too,"  added  Silas,  pulling  off  his  cap  and  digging  his 
fingers  into  his  head,  "'cause  if  they  are  too  many  fur 
us  we  won't  have  no  chance  on  airth  to  run.  We'll 
have  to  stay  right  here  an'  die,  the  hul  kit  an'  bilin'  of 
us." 

Julian,  who  had  never  seen  an  Indian  in  war-paint  or 
heard  the  whistle  of  a  hostile  bullet,  was  amazed  at  the 
trapper's  coolness  and  indifference.  The  bare  thought 
of  a  fight  with  the  savages  was  enough  to  cause  him  the 
most  intense  alarm,  and  yet  here  was  Silas,  who  had 
more  than  once  been  a  prisoner  in  the  hands  of  the  In- 
dians, and  who  knew  much  better  than  Julian  could 
imagine  it,  what  the  fate  of  the  emigrants  would  be  if 
their  enemies  proved  too  strong  for  them,  apparently  as 
much  at  his  ease  as  though  there  had  not  been  a  hostile 
warrior  within  a  thousand  miles.  The  boy  wondered  at 
his  courage  and  wished  his  friend  could  impart  some  of 
it  to  him,  little  dreaming  how  soon  he  would  have  need 
of  it. 

"Do  you  really  think  there  is  danger  of  an  attack?" 
asked  Julian,  as  soon  as  he  could  speak. 

The  trapper,  who  was  in  the  act  of  untying  a  haunch 
of  venison  that  was  fastened  behind  his  saddle,  turned 
and  looked  curiously  at  his  companion. 

"  Youngster,"  said  he,  "  if  you  should  diskiver  a  cloud 
as  black  as  midnight  com  in'  up  over  these  mountains, 
an'  should  see  the  lightnin'  a  playin'  around  the  edges, 
an'  hear  the  thunder  a  grumblin',  what  would  you 
say?" 

''  That  we  were  going  to  have  a  storm,"  replied  Julian. 

"  In  course  you  would.  An'  when  I  know  that  thar 
are  Injins  all  around  us,  an'  that  they  are  takin'  mighty 
good  care  to  keep  themselves  out  of  sight,  I  tell  myself 
that  they'll  bar  watchin'.  When  I  see  their  trail,  an'  find 
out  that  thar  are  nigh  onto  three  hundred  braves  in  the 
party,  an'  that  they  haint  got  no  women  or  plunder  with 


THE   WAGON  TRAIN.  9 

'em,  I  know  that  they  are  on  the  war-path.  An' 
when  they  foller  us  fur  two  hul  days,  an'  their  spies 
watch  us  every  night  while  we  are  makin'  our  camp — 
like  that  varlet  over  thar  is  watchin'  us  now — I  know 
that  they  are  arter  us  an'  nobody  else.  The  signs  are 
jest  as  plain  to  me  as  the  signs  of  a  thunder  storm  are 
ito  you." 

"Is  there  some  one  watching  us  now?"  asked  Julian, 
in  great  excitement. 

"Sartin  thar  is.  I've  seed  that  copper-colored  face  of 
his'n  peepin'  over  that  rock  ever  since  we've  been  here. 
If  he  was  within  good  pluggin'  distance  all  the  news  he 
would  carry  back  to  his  friends  wouldn't  do  'em  much 
good,  I  reckon." 

As  the  trapper  spoke  he  pointed  toward  the  opposite 
side  of  the  gorge.  Julian  looked  in  the  direction  indi- 
cated, closely  scrutinizing  every  rock  and  tree  within  the 
range  of  his  vision,  but  nothing  in  the  shape  of  an  In- 
dian's head  could  he  see.  His  eyes  were  not  as  sharp  as 
those  of  the  guide. 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Silas,  "you'll  see  plenty  of  'em 
afore  mornin',  an'  they'll  be  closer  to  you  than  you'll 
care  to  have  'em.  But  you  needn't  be  any  ways  oneasy. 
They  won't  hurt  you.  It's  white  men  that  you've  got  to 
look  out  fur." 

"  White  men?"  echoed  Julian. 

"  Sartin.  Thar's  two  persons  in  the  world — an'  I  can 
lay  my  hand  on  one  of  'em  in  less'n  five  minutes — who 
would  be  willin'  to  give  something  nice  if  they  could  get 
hold  of  you.  I  know  a  heap  more  about  you  than  you 
think  I  do." 

"You  have  hinted  something  like  this  before,  Silas, 
and  I  don't  know  what  you  mean.  I  wish  you  would 
explain  yourself." 

"  I  hain't  got  no  time  now,"  replied  the  guide,  shoul- 
dering his  rifle  and  walking  briskly  up  the  road.  "  Keep 
your  eyes  open,  an'  don't  go  out  of  the  camp  till  I  get 
back.  Don't  forget  what  I  told  you  about  them  wagons 
nuther." 

The  trapper  quickly  disappeared  around  a  bend  in  the 


10  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

road,  and  Julian  once  more  directed  his  gaze  across  the 
gully  and  tried  in  vain  to  discover  the  hiding-place  of  the 
spy.  He  began  to  feel  timid  now  that  he  was  alone. 
The  thought  that  there  were  hostile  Indians  all  around 
him,  and  that  one  of  their  number  was  concealed  almost 
within  rifle-shot  of  him,  watching  every  move  he  made, 
was  by  no  means  an  agreeable  one.  His  first  impulse 
was  to  put  spurs  to  his  horse  and  make  the  best  of  his 
way  back  to  the  train;  and  he  probably  would  have  done 
so  had  he  not  at  that  moment  become  aware  that  the 
train  was  coming  to  him.  He  heard  the  rumbling  of 
the  wheels  and  the  voices  of  teamsters  below  him,  and 
the  familiar  sounds  brought  his  courage  back  to  him 
again.  He  remained  at  his  post  until  the  foremost 
wagons  came  in  sight,  and  then  proceeded  to  carry  out 
the  instructions  Silas  had  given  him. 


CHAPTER  II. 

JULIAN    HEARS    SOMETHING. 

HALF  an  hour  the  preparations  for  the 
night  were  all  completed,  and  Julian  sur- 
veyed the  camp  with  a  smile  of  satisfaction. 
There  were  twenty  wagons  in  the  train,  and 
of  these  two  barricades  had  been  made,  one  at  the 
upper  and  the  other  at  the  lower  end  of  the  cliffs,  as 
the  guide  had  directed.  The  vehicles  had  been  drawn 
close  together,  and  were  fastened  to  one  another  by 
chains  so  that  they  could  not  be  easily  moved  from  their 
places.  The  space  between  the  wheels  was  blocked  up 
with  plows,  harrows,  stoves,  bedsteads  and  chairs,  thus 
rendering  it  a  matter  of  some  difficulty  for  any  one  to 
effect  an  entrance  into  the  camp. 

While  this  work  was  being  performed  the  shadows  of 
twilight  had  deepened  into  the  gloom  of  night,  and  now 
all  objects  outside  the  circle  of  light  made  by  the  camp- 
fires  were  concealed  by  Egyptian  darkness.  Inside  the 
barricades  a  scene  was  presented  that  was  a  cheering  one 
to  men  wearied  with  their  day's  journey.  A  dozen  fires 
blazed  along  the  base  of  the  cliff,  and  beside  them  stal- 
wart pioneers  reposed  on  their  blankets,  smoking  their 
pipes  and  watching  with  hungry  eyes  the  preparations 
for  supper  that  were  going  on  around  them.  Venison 
steaks  were  broiling  on  the  coals,  potatoes  roasting  in 
the  ashes,  and  coffee-pots  simmered  and  sputtered,  filling 
the  camp  with  the  odor  of  their  aromatic  contents. 
Cattle  and  horses  cropped  the  herbage  that  grew  along 
the  edge  of  the  gully,  and  noisy  children,  all  unconscious 
of  the  danger  that  threatened  them,  rolled  about  on  the 
grass,  or  relieved  their  cramped  limbs  by  running  races 
along  the  road.  But,  although  the  camp  wore  an  air  of 
domesticity  and  security,  preparations  for  battle  were 


12  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

everywhere  visible.  The  saddles  and  bridles  had  not 
been  removed  from  the  horses  as  usual,  the  emigrants 
wore  their  revolvers  about  their  waists,  and  kept  their 
rifles  within  easy  reach.  There  were  pale  faces  in  that 
camp,  and  men  who  had  all  their  lives  been  familiar 
with  danger  started  and  trembled  at  the  rustle  of  every 
leaf. 

Julian  Mortimer,  from  a  neighboring  wagon,  on 
which  he  had  perched  himself  to  await  the  return  of 
the  guide,  watched  the  scene  presented  to  his  gaze,  as 
he  had  done  every  night  since  leaving  St.  Joseph,  and 
bemoaned  his  hard  lot  in  life. 

"Among  all  these  people,"  he  soliloquized,  "there 
are  none  that  I  can  call  relatives  and  friends,  and  not 
one  even  to  speak  a  kind  word  to  me.  How  I  envy 
those  fellows,"  he  added,  glancing  at  a  couple  of  boys 
about  his  own  age  who  were  seated  at  the  nearest  camp- 
fire  conversing  with  their  parents.  "  They  have  a 
father  to  watch  over  them,  a  mother  to  care  for  them, 
and  brothers  and  sisters  to  love,  but  they  do  not  seem 
to  appreciate  their  blessings,  for  they  are  continually 
quarreling  with  one  another,  and  no  longer  ago  than 
this  morning  one  of  those  boys  flew  into  a  terrible  rage 
because  his  mother  asked  him  to  chop  some  wood  to 
cook  breakfast  with.  If  he  could  be  alone  in  the  world 
for  a  few  days,  as  I  have  been  almost  ever  since  I  can 
remember,  he  would  know  how  to  value  that  mother 
when  he  got  back  to  her.  If  the  Indians  attack  us  to- 
night some  of  the  emigrants  will  certainly  be  killed,  and 
the  friends  they  have  left  behind  them  in  the  States 
will  mourn  over  their  fate;  but  if  I  fall,  there  will  be  no 
one  to  drop  a  tear  for  me  or  say  he  is  sorry  I  am  gone. 
There  is  nothing  on  earth  that  cares  whether  I  live  or 
die,  unless  it  is  my  horse.  If  the  Indians  kill  me  per- 
haps he  will  miss  me." 

Julian's  soliloquy  was  suddenly  interrupted  by  a  light 
footstep  behind  the  wagon  in  which  he  was  sitting.  He 
turned  quickly  and  discovered  a  man  stealing  along  the 
barricade  and  examining  it  closely,  as  if  he  "were  look- 
ing for  a  place  to  get  through  it.  Julian's  first  thought 


JULIAN  HEARS  SOMETHING.  13 

was  to  accost  him,  but  there  was  something  so  stealthy 
in  the  man's  actions  that  his  curiosity  was  aroused,  and 
checking  the  words  that  arose  on  his  lips  he  remained 
quiet  in  his  concealment,  and  waited  to  see  what  was 
going  to  happen.  He  had  often  seen  the  man  during 
the  journey  across  the  plains,  and  knew  that  he  was  one 
of  the  emigrants,  but  why  he  should  seek  to  leave  the 
camp  at  that  time  and  in  so  unusual  a  manner,  was 
something  the  boy  could  not  understand. 

The  man  walked  the  whole  length  of  the  barricade, 
turning  to.look  at  the  emigrants  now  and  then  to  make 
sure  that  none  of  them  were  observing  his  movements, 
and  finally  disappeared  under  one  of  the  wagons.  Ju- 
lian heard  him  working  his  way  through  the  obstruc- 
tions that  had  been  placed  between  the  wheels,  and 
presently  saw  him  appear  again  on  the  outside  of  the 
barricade. 

Almost  at  the  same  instant  the  boy  discovered  an- 
other figure  moving  rapidly  but  noiselessly  down  the 
road  toward  the  camp.  At  first  he  thought  it  was  the 
guide,  but  when  the  man  came  within  the  circle  of  light 
thrown  out  by  the  camp-fires  he  saw  that  he  was  a 
stranger.  He  was  evidently  a  mountain  man,  for  he 
was  dressed  in  buckskin  and  carried  a  long  rifle  in  the 
hollow  of  his  arm,  and  the  never-failing  knife  and  toma- 
hawk in  his  belt;  but  he  was  the  worst  specimen  of  this 
class  of  men  that  Julian  had  ever  seen.  His  clothing  was 
soiled  and  ragged,  his  hair,  which  had  evidently  never 
been  acquainted  with  a  comb,  fell  down  upon  his  shoul- 
ders, and  his  face  looked  as  though  it  had  received  the 
very  roughest  usage,  for  it  was  terribly  battered  and 
scarred.  One  glance  at  him  was  enough  to  frighten 
Julian,  who,  knowing  instinctively  that  the  man  was 
there  for  no  good  purpose,  drew  further  back  into  the 
shadow  of  the  wagon-cover. 

The  emigrant  who  had  left  the  camp  in  so  suspicious 
a  manner,  discovered  the  stranger  the  moment  he 
reached  the  outside  of  the  barricade,  but  he  did  not  ap- 
pear to  be  Burpriaed  to  see  him.  On  the  contrary,  he 
acted  as  if  he  had  been  expecting  him,  for  he  placed 


14  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

one  foot  on  the  nearest  wagon-tongue,  rested  his  elbow 
on  his  knee,  and  when  the  trapper  had  approached 
within  speaking  distance,  said  in  a  suppressed  whisper: 

"  How  are  you,  Sanders?" 

The  latter  paid  no  more  attention  to  the  greeting 
than  if  he  had  not  been  addressed  at  all.  He  advanced 
close  to  the  wagon  in  which  Julian  was  concealed — so 
close  that  his  brawny  shoulders  were  almost  within 
reach  of  the  boy's  hand — and  peered  through  the  barri- 
cade, taking  in  at  one  swift  glance  all  that  was  going 
on  inside  the  camp.  He  next  looked  up  and  down  the 
road,  fixing  his  eyes  suspiciously  on  every  tree  and  rock 
near  him  that  was  large  enough  to  conceal  a  foe,  and 
having  satisfied  himself  that  there  was  no  one  near  him, 
he  dropped  the  butt  of  his  rifle  to  the  ground,  and 
growled  out: 

"Wai!" 

"  Well,"  replied  the  emigrant,  "  I  have  been  to  Mis- 
souri, and  I  have  returned,  as  you  see." 

"I  reckon  you're  satisfied  now,  hain't  you?"  he 
asked. 

"  I  am.  I  am  satisfied  of  four  things :  That  the  boy  is 
alive  and  hearty;  that  he  remembers  more  of  his  early 
history  than  we  thought  he  would;  that  he  has  come  out 
here  to  make  trouble  for  us;  and  that  he  is  at  this  very 
moment  with  this  wagon  train." 

As  the  emigrant  said  this  he  folded  his  arms  and 
looked  at  his  companion  to  observe  the  effect  these  words 
would  have  upon  him.  He,  no  doubt,  expected  that  the 
trapper  would  be  surprised,  and  the  latter's  actions  indi- 
cated that  he  certainly  was.  He  stepped  back  as  sud- 
denly as  if  a  blow  had  been  aimed  at  him,  and  after 
regarding  the  emigrant  sharply  for  a  moment,  struck  the 
butt  of  his  rifle  with  his  clenched  hand,  and  ejaculated: 

"Sho!" 

"  It's  a  fact,"  replied  his  companion. 

"Wai,  now,  I  wouldn't  be  afeared  to  bet  my  ears  agin 
a  chaw  of  tobacker  that  you're  fooled  the  worst  kind," 
said  the  trapper,  who  was  very  much  excited  over  what 
he  had  heard,  and  seemed  quite  unable  to  bring  himself 


JULIAN  H£AtiS  Si  )M£  THING.  - 15 

to  believe  it.  "  The  boy  was  young  when  he  was  tuk 
away  from  here — not  more'n  eight  years  old — an'  do  you 
'spose  he  could  remember  anything  that  happened  or 
find  his  way  across  these  yere  prairies  to  his  hum  agin? 
Don't  look  reason'ble." 

"  It's  the  truth,  whether  it  looks  reasonable  or  not.  I 
have  seen  Julian  Mortimer,  and  talked  with  him,  and 
consequently  may  be  supposed  to  know  more  about  him 
and  his  plans  than  you  who  have  not  seen  him  for  years. 
What  was  that?" 

Julian,  astonished  to  hear  his  own  name  pronounced 
by  one  whom  he  believed  to  be  a  stranger  to  him,  uttered 
an  ejaculation  under  his  breath,  and  forgetting  in  his 
excitement  how  close  the  men  were  to  him,  bent  forward 
and  began  to  listen  more  intently. 

The  very  slight  rustling  he  occasioned  among  the  folds 
of  the  canvas  cover  of  the  wagon  was  sufficient  to  attract 
the  attention  of  the  emigrant  and  his  companion,  who 
brought  their  conversation  to  a  sudden  close,  and  look- 
ing about  them  suspiciously,  waited  for  a  repetition  of 
the  sound. 

But  Julian,  frightened  at  what  he  had  done,  and 
trembling  in  every  limb  when  he  saw  the  trapper  turn 
his  head  and  gaze  earnestly  toward  the  wagon  in  which 
he  was  concealed,  remained  perfectly  motionless  and 
held  bis  breath  in  suspense. 

The  men  listened  a  moment,  but  hearing  nothing  to 
alarm  them,  Sanders  folded  his  arms  over  the  muzzle  of 
his  rifle,  intimating  by  a  gesture  that  he  was  ready  to 
hear  what  else  the  emigrant  had  to  say,  and  the  latter 
once  more  placed  his  foot  on  the  wagon-tongue,  and 
continued: 

"It  is  time  we  had  an  understanding  on  one  point, 
Sanders.  Are  you  working  for  my  cousin,  Reginald,  or 
for  me?" 

"  I'm  workin'  fur  you,  in  course,"  replied  the  trapper. 
"  I've  done  my  level  best  fur  you.  I  had  my  way  with 
one  of  the  brats,  an'  put  him  whar  he'll  never  trouble 
nobody." 

"Has  he  never  troubled  any  one  since  that  night? 


1(5  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

Has  he  never  troubled  you? "  asked  the  emigrant,  in  a 
significant  tone.  "Could  you  be  hired  to  spend  an 
hour  in  Reginald's  rancho  after  dark?" 

"  No,  I  couldn't/'  replied  the  trapper,  in  a  subdued 
voice,  glancing  nervously  around,  and  drawing  a  little 
closer  to  his  companion.  "But  that  thar  boy  is  at  the 
bottom  of  the  lake,  an'  I'd  swar  to  it,  'cause  I  put  him 
thar  myself.  What  it  is  that  walks  about  that  rancho 
every  night,  an'  makes  such  noises,  an'  cuts  up  so,  I 
don't  know.  You  had  oughter  let  me  done  as  I  pleased 
with  the  other;  but  you  got  chicken-hearted  all  of  a 
sudden,  an'  didn't  want  him  rubbed  out,  an'  so  I  stole 
him  a>vay  from  his  hum  for  you,  an'  you  toted  him  off 
to  the  States.  If  he  comes  back  here  an'  makes  outlaws 
of  you  an'  your  cousin,  it's  no  business  of  mine.  But 
I  am  on  your  side,  an'  you  know  it." 

"  I  don't  know  anything  of  the  kind.  It  is  true  that 
you  did  all  this  for  me,  and  that  I  paid  you  well  for  it; 
out  I  know  that  you  have  since  promised  Reginald  that 
you  would  find  the  boy  and  bring  him  back  here.  Will 
you  attack  this  train  to-night?" 

"Sartin.  That's  what  we've  been  a  follerin' it  fur. 
If  you  want  to  save  your  bacon,  you'd  best  be  gettin* 
out." 

"  I  intend  to  do  so;  but  I  don't  want  the  boy  to  get 
out;  do  you  understand?  You  know  where  to  find  me 
in  the  morning,  and  if  you  will  bring  me  his  jacket  and 
leggins  to  prove  that  he  is  out  of  the  way,  I  will  give 
you  a  thousand  dollars.  There  are  a  good  many  boys 
with  the  train,  but  you  will  have  no  trouble  in  picking 
out  Julian,  if  you  remember  how  he  looked  eight  years 
ago.  You  will  know  him  by  his  handsome  face  and 
straight,  slender  figure." 

"  I'll  find  him,"  said  the  trapper;  "it's  a  bargain,  an' 
thar's  my  hand  onto  it.  Now  I'll  jest  walk  around  an' 
take  a  squint  at  things,  an'  you  had  best  pack  up  what 
plunder  you  want  to  save  an'  cPar  out;  'cause  in  less'n 
an  hour  me  an'  the  Injuns  will  be  down  on  this  yere 
wagon  train  like  a  turkey  on  a  tater-bug." 

The  emigrant  evidently  thought  it  best  to  act  on  this 


JULIAN  HEARS  SOMETHING.  1? 

suggestion,  for  without  wasting  any  time  or  words  in 
leave-taking  he  made  his  way  carefully  through  the 
barricade  into  the  camp. 

The  trapper  watched  him  until  he  disappeared  from 
view,  and  then  said,  as  if  talking  to  himself,  but  in  a 
tone  of  voice  loud  enough  for  Julian  to  hear: 

"A  thousand  dollars  fur  doin'  a  job  that  you  are 
af eared  to  do  yourself!  I  don't  mind  shootin'  the  boy, 
but  I'd  be  the  biggest  kind  of  a  dunce  to  do  it  fur  that 
money  when  another  man  offers  me  $5,000  for  him  alive 
air'  well.  If  that  youngster,  Julian,  is  in  this  camp,  I'll 
win  that  five  thousand  to-night,  or  my  name  ain't  Ned 
Sanders." 

The  trapper  shouldered  his  rifle,  and  with  a  step  that 
would  not  have  awakened  a  cricket,  stole  along  the  bar- 
ricade, carefully  examining  it  at  every  point,  and  men- 
tally calculating  the  chances  for  making  a  successful 
attack  upon  it.  When  he  had  passed  out  of  sight  in 
the  darkness,  Julian  drew  a  long  breath,  and  settled 
back  in  his  place  of  concealment  to  think  over  what  he 
had  heard. 


CHAPTER  III. 

A   EIDE   IN   THE   DARK. 

0  DESCRIBE  the  feelings  with  which  Julian 
Mortimer  listened  to  the  conversation  we 
have  just  recorded  were  impossible.  He 
knew  now  that  he  had  been  greatly  mistaken 
in  some  opinions  he  had  hitherto  entertained.  He  had 
told  himself  but  a  few  minutes  before  that  there  was 
no  one  on  earth  who  cared  whether  he  lived  or  died; 
but  scarcely  had  the  thought  passed  through  his  mind 
before  he  became  aware  that  there  were  at  least  two 
persons  in  the  world  who  were  deeply  interested  in  that 
very  matter — so  much  so  that  one  was  willing  to  pay  a 
ruffian  a  thousand  dollars  to  kill  him,  while  the  other 
had  offered  five  times  that  amount  to  have  him  delivered 
into  his  hands  alive  and  well.  It  was  no  wonder  that 
the  boy  was  overwhelmed  with  fear  and  bewilderment. 
"  Whew!"  he  panted,  pulling  off  his  sombrero  and 
wiping  the  big  drops  of  perspiration  from  his  forehead, 
"this  goes  ahead  of  any  thing  I  ever  heard  of.  I  wonder 
if  Silas  had  any  reference  to  this  when  he  said  that 
there  were  two  men  in  the  world  who  would  be  willing 
to  give  something  nice  to  get  hold  of  me!  I'm  done 
for.  If  I  am  not  killed  by  the  Indians,  that  villain, 
Sanders,  Avill  make  a  prisoner  of  me  and  take  me  off 
to  Reginald.  Who  is  Reginald,  and  what  have  I  done 
that  he  should  be  so  anxious  to  see  me?  I  never 
knew  before  that  I  was  worth  $5,000  to  anybody. 
Who  is  that  emigrant,  and  how  does  it  come  that  I 
am  in  his  way?  lie  says  that  he  has  talked  with 
me  and  knows  all  about  my  plans,  but  I  am  positive 
that  I  never  spoke  to  him  in  my  life.  I  never  saw  him 
until  I  found  him  with  this  wagon  train  at  St.  Joseph. 
I  have  had  some  thrilling  adventures  during  the  past 


A  R2DE  IN  THE  DARK.  19 

few  weeks,  and  I  can  see  very  plainly  that  they  are  not 
yet  ended." 

Julian,  trembling  with  anxiety  and  alarm,  clambered 
out  of  the  wagon,  and  leaning  on  the  muzzle  of  his 
rifle,  looked  down  into  the  gorge,  thought  over  his 
situation,  and  tried  to  determine  upon  some  plan  of 
action.  His  first  impulse  was  to  acquaint  the  emigrants 
with  the  fact  that  one  of  their  number  had  been  hold- 
ing converse  with  an  enemy,  and  have  the  traitor  se- 
cured at  once.  His  next  was  to  provide  for  his  own 
safety  by  collecting  the  few  articles  of  value  he  possessed 
and  making  his  way  back  to  the  prairie;  but  he  was 
deterred  from  attempting  to  carry  out  this  plan  by  the 
fear  that  while  he  was  fleeing  from  one  danger  he  might 
run  into  another.  The  savages  had  probably  surrounded 
the  camp  by  this  time,  and  he  could  not  hope  to  pass 
through  their  lines  without  being  discovered.  The  best 
course  he  could  pursue  was  to  wait  until  the  guide  re- 
turned. He  would  know  just  what  ought  to  be  done. 

Julian  was  so  completely  absorbed  in  his  reverie  that 
he  forgot  to  keep  an  eye  on  what  was  going  on  around 
him,  and  consequently  he  did  not  see  the  two  dark 
figures  which  came  stealing  along  the  road  as  noiselessly 
as  spirits.  But  the  figures  were  there,  and  when  they 
discovered  Julian  they  drew  back  into  the  bushes  that 
lined  the  base  of  the  cliff,  and  held  a  whispered  con- 
sultation. Presently  one  of  them  stepped  out  into  the 
road  again  and  ran  toward  the  camp.  He  did  not 
attempt  to  escape  observation,  but  hurried  along  as 
though  he  had  a  perfect  right  to  be  there.  He  seemed 
to  be  ignorant  of  the  boy's  presence  until  he  heard  his 
voice  and  saw  the  muzzle  of  his  rifle  looking  straight 
into  his  face. 

"Halt!"  cried  Julian,  standing  with  his  finger  on  the 
trigger,  ready  to  enforce  his  command  if  it  were  not 
instantly  obeyed.  "  Who  are  you?" 

"A  friend/'  replied  the  man.     "  Don't  shoot!" 

"  Come  up  here,  friend,  and  let  us  have  a  look  at 
you." 

As   the   stranger    approached    Julian   saw    that    he 


20  JULIAN  MO K  TIMER. 

appeared  to  be  very  much  excited  about  something,  and 
that  he  breathed  heavily  as  if  he  had  been  running  long 
and  rapidly. 

"  If  you  are  a  friend  what  are  you  doing  on  the  out- 
side of  the  camp?"  asked  the  boy. 

"  Why,  we've  been  trappin'  here  in  the  mountains,  me 
an'  my  pardner  have,  an'  to-day  the  Injuns  driv  us  out," 
replied  the  stranger.  "  We  jest  had  to  git  up  an'  dig 
out  to  save  our  har,  an'  left  all  our  plunder  in  the  hands 
of  the  redskins — spelter,  bosses,  traps,  an'  every  thing 
except  our  rifles.  While  we  were  a  makin'  tracks  fur 
the  prairie  we  come  plump  agin  somebody;  an'  who  do 
you  'spose  it  was?  It  was  Silas  Koper.  We  used  to  be 
chums,  me  an'  him  did,  an'  have  hunted  and  trapped 
together  many  a  day  up  in  the  Blackfoot  country.  We 
found  him  watchin'  the  camp  of  Ned  Sanders  an'  his 
band  of  rascals,  an'  Silas  said  that  if  he  had  just  one 
more  man  he  could  kill  or  captur'  the  last  one  of  'em. 
He  told  me  whar  his  wagon  train  was,  an'  axed  me  would 
I  come  down  an'  get  one  of  the  fellers  to  lend  a  hand. 
He  said  that  Julian  Mortimer  was  plucky  an'  a  good 
shot,  an'  he'd  like  to  have  him.  Mebbe  you  know  him 
an'  can  tell  me  whar'  to  find  him." 

"  I  can.  I  am  Julian  Mortimer,"  replied  the  boy, 
proudly. 

"You!"  The  trapper  seemed  to  be  first  surprised, 
and  then  disappointed.  He  surveyed  Julian  from  head 
to  foot,  and  then  continued:  "  Sho!  I  expected  to  see  a 
man.  What  could  a  little  cub  like  you  do  with  Sanders 
and  his  gang?" 

"  I  am  man  enough  to  put  a  ball  into  one  of  them  if  I 
get  a  fair  chance,"  replied  Julian.  "  I  know  something 
about  Sanders,  and  have  reasons  for  wishing  him  put 
where  he  will  never  see  me  again." 

"  Wall,  you're  spunky  if  you  are  little,  an'  spunk  is 
the  thing  that  counts  arter  all.  Mebbe  you'll  do  as  well 
as  any  body.  Will  you  go?" 

"  Of  course  I  will,  if  Silas  sent  for  me." 

"  'Nough  said.  Go  easy  now,  an'  do  jest  as  you  see 
me  do." 


A  RIDE  IN  THE  DARK.  21 

The  trapper  shouldered  his  rifle  and  started  down  the 
road  at  a  rapid  run,  with  Julian  close  at  his  heels. 

When  they  passed  the  first  bend  in  the  road  a  man 
came  out  of  the  bushes,  where  he  had  been  concealed, 
and  followed  after  them  with  noiseless  footsteps.  Julian 
did  not  see  him,  and  neither  did  he  see  the  dark  forms 
that  were  hidden  behind  the  trees  and  rocks  011  each  side 
of  the  path;  he  saw  no  one  except  his  guide  until  he 
came  suddenly  around  the  base  of  a  cliff  and  found  him- 
self in  front  of  a  camp-fire,  beside  which  lay  half-a-dozen 
rough-looking  men  stretched  out  on  their  blankets. 

Julian  stopped  when  this  unexpected  sight  greeted  his 
eyes,  but  his  guide  kept  on,  and  seating  himself  on  the 
ground  before  the  fire,  jerked  his  thumb  over  his 
shoulder  toward  the  boy,  and  coolly  announced: 

"  Here  he  is,  fellers.  Leastwise,  he  says  that's  his 
name." 

Julian  stood  like  one  petrified.  He  looked  at  his 
guide,  at  the  trappers  that  were  lying  around,  and  then 
his  gaze  wandered  toward  an  object  which  he  had  not 
before  noticed.  It  was  Silas  Eoper,  who  stood  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  fire,  with  his  back  to  a  tree,  to  which 
he  was  securely  bound. 

One  glance  at  him  was  enough  for  Julian,  who  now 
saw  that  he  had  been  duped.  He  understood  the  trick 
that  had  been  played  upon  him  as  well  as  though  it  had 
been  explained  in  words,  and  wondered  at  his  own 
stupidity.  If  it  had  been  true,  as  the  strange  trapper 
had  told  him,  that  Silas  was  keeping  guard  over  the 
camp  of  the  outlaws,  and  needed  just  one  more  man  to 
enable  him  to  effect  their  capture,  would  he  have  sent 
for  an  inexperienced  person  like  himself  when  there 
were  at  least  a  score  of  old  Indian-fighters  among  the 
emigrants?  Julian  told  himself  that  he  ought  to  have 
known  better. 

These  thoughts  passed  through  his  mind  in  an  instant 
of  time,  and  in  his  excitement  and  alarm,  forgetting 
everything  except  that  he  was  in  the  presence  of  enemies, 
he  faced  about  and  took  to  his  heels;  but  he  had  not 
made  many  steps  when  the  man  who  had  followed  him 


02  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

from  the  camp,  and  who  was  none  other  than  Sanders 
himself,,  suddenly  appeared  in  his  path. 

"Not  quite  so  fast!"  said  he,  in  savage  tones.  "  You're 
wuth  a  heap  to  us,  if  you  only  kuowedit,  an'  we  couldn't 
think  of  partin'  with  you  so  soon." 

As  the  trapper  spoke,  he  twisted  the  boy's  rifle  out  of 
his  grasp,  tore  the  belt  which  contained  his  revolvers  and 
hunting-knife  from  his  waist,  and  then  seized  him  by 
the  collar  and  dragged  him  toward  the  fire — Julian,  who 
knew  that  it  would  be  the  height  of  folly  to  irritate  the 
ruffian,  offering  no  resistance. 

"  I  call  this  a  good  night's  work,"  continued  Sanders, 
who  seemed  to  be  highly  elated.  "We've  been  waitin* 
fur  both  them  fellers  fur  more'n  a  year,  an'  we've  got  'em 
at  last.  This  is  Julian.  I  knowed  him  the  minute  I 
sot  my*  eyes  onto  him,  and  could  have  picked  him  out 
among  a  million.  He  hain't  changed  a  bit  in  his  face, 
but  he's  grown  a  heap  taller  an'  stouter,  an'  p'raps  is  a 
leetle  livelier  on  his  legs  than  he  was  when  me  an'  him 
run  that  foot-race  eight  year  ago.  Eemember  that — 
don't  you,  youngster?" 

"  No,  I  don't,"  replied  Julian.  "  I  never  ran  a  race 
with  you  in  my  life.  I  never  saw  you  until  to-night." 

"Didn't!  Wol,  I've  seed  you  a  good  many  times 
durin'  the  last  two  months,  an'  have  talked  with  you, 
too;  but  I  was  dressed  up  like  a  gentleman  then,  an* 
mebbe  that's  the  reason  you  don't  recognize  me  now. 
Dick  thinks  he  knows  more  about  you  than  anybody 
else,  but  I  reckon  he  don't." 

"Who  is  Dick?"  asked  the  boy. 

"  He's  the  feller  who  was  talkin'  to  me  to-night  while 
you  were  settin'  in  that  wagon  listenin'  to  us.  I  didn't 
know  you  were  about  thar  until  Dick  had  gone  back 
into  the  camp,  an'  then  I  seed  you  come  down  from  the 
wagon.  I  wanted  to  get  you  away  from  thar,  'cause  I 
was  af eared  that  if  you  were  in  the  camp  durin'  the  fight 
some  of  the  Injuns  might  send  a  ball  or  arrer  into  you, 
an'  that  would  have  been  bad  fur  me  an'  my  mates, 
'cause  it  would  have  tuk  jest  $5,000  out  of  our  pockets. 
I  didn't  see  no  chance  to  slip  up  an'  make  a  pris'ner  of 


24  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

you  without  alarmin'  the  emigrants,  so  I  come  back 
here  air*  got  one  of  my  men,  an'  me  an'  him  made  up 
that  story  we  told  you.  It  worked  first-rate,  didn't  it.'" 

"But  you  have  not  yet  told  me  who  ])ick  is/'  said 
Julian,  without  answering  the  outlaw's  question.  "How 
did  he  become  acquainted  with  me;  and  what  reason  has 
he  for  wishing  me  put  out  of  his  way?  I  heard  him  say 
that  he  would  give  you  a  thousand  dollars  if  you  would 
kill  me." 

"  Them's  his  very  words.  But  you  needn't  be  no  ways 
Bkeary,  'cause  I  wouldn't  hurt  a  hair  of  your  head — not 
while  I  can  make  more  money  by  takin'  good  care  of 
you.  As  fur  the  reasons  Dick's  got  fur  havin'  somethin' 
agin  you,  that's  his  business  an'  not  mine.  Mebbe  you'll 
know  all  about  it  one  of  these  days.  But  I  reckon  we 
might  as  well  be  movin'  now.  What  have  you  done 
with  the  critters,  Tom?" 

The  man  who  had  guided  Julian  to  the  camp  of  the 
outlaws  arose  from  his  seat,  disappeared  in  the  bushes, 
and  presently  returned  leading  three  horses.  At  a  sign 
from  his  captors  Julian  mounted  one  of  the  animals, 
Sanders  sprang  upon  the  back  of  another,  and  seizing 
Julian's  horse  by  the  bridle  rode  off  into  the  darkness, 
followed  by  Tom,  who  brought  up  the  rear.  The  boy 
wondered  what  the  outlaws  were  going  to  do  with  him, 
and  hoped  that  Sanders,  who  had  shown  himself  to  be 
quite  communicative,  might  see  fit  to  enlighten  him; 
but  the  trapper  seemed  to  have  relapsed  into  a  medita- 
tive mood,  for  he  rode  along  with  his  eyes  fastened  on  the 
horn  of  his  saddle,  and  for  half  an  hour  never  opened 
his  lips  except  to  swear  at  Julian's  horse,  which  showed 
a  disposition  to  lag  behind,  and  to  answer  a  challenge 
from  the  foremost  of  a  long  line  of  Indians  who  passed 
them  on  the  road. 

When  Julian  saw  these  warriors  he  thought  of  the 
emigrants,  and  knew  that  the  fight  the  guide  had  pre- 
dicted was  not  far  distant.  It  was  begun  that  very 
hour,  and  the  signal  for  the  attack  was  a  single,  long- 
drawn  war-whoop,  which  echoed  and  re-echoed  among 
the  cliffs  until  it  seemed  to  Julian  as  if  the  mountains 


A  RIDE  IN  THE  DARK.  25 

were  literally  filled  with  yelling  savages.  No  sooner 
had  it  died  away  than  a  chorus  of  frightful  whoops 
arose  from  the  direction  of  the  camp,  accompanied  by 
the  rapid  discharge  of  fire-arms  and  the  defiant  shouts 
of  the  emigrants,  which  came  to  Julian's  ears  with  ter- 
rible distinctness.  Although  he  knew  that  he  was  at  a 
safe  distance  from  the  scene  of  the  conflict,  and  in  the 
power  of  men  who  would  protect  him  from  the  savages, 
he  could  not  have  been  more  terrified  if  he  had  been 
standing  side  by  side  with  the  pioneers  battling  for  his 
life. 

"What  do  you  think  of  it,  anyhow?"  asked  Sanders, 
noticing  the  boy's  agitation.  "  Never  heered  sounds 
like  them  afore,  I  reckon." 

"  No,"  replied  Julian,  in  a  trembling  voice,  "  and  I 
never  want  to  hear  them  again.  It  is  some  of  your 
work.  Silas  says  the  Indians  would  not  be  half  as  bad 
as  they  are,  if  it  were  not  for  white  renegades  like  you 
and  your  friends,  who  are  continually  spreading  dissatis- 
faction among  them,  and  urging  them  on  to  the  war- 
path." 

"Wouldn't!"  exclaims  Sanders.  "I  don't  reckon 
we're  any  wuss  than  other  folks  I've  heern  tell  on.  Thar 
are  men  in  the  world — an'  some  of  'em  don't  live  so  very 
far  from  here,  nuther — who  walk  with  their  noses  in  the 
air,  an'  think  themselves  better'n  everybody  else,  an* 
yet  they  are  bad  enough  to  offer  men  like  me  an'  my 
mates  money  to  put  some  of  their  own  kin  out  of  the 
way.  We're  jest  about  as  good  as  the  rest  if  we  are  out- 
laws." 

For  the  next  two  miles  the  route  pursued  by  the  trap- 
pers and  their  prisoner  lay  through  a  deep  ravine,  where 
the  darkness  was  so  intense  that  Julian  could  scarcely 
see  his  hand  before  him,  and  at  ever}'  step  of  the  way 
the  reports  of  fire-arms  and  the  whoops  and  yells  of  the 
combatants  rang  in  his  ears.  There  was  a  fierce  battle 
going  on  at  the  camp,  and  the  boy  wondered  who  would 
gain  the  victory. 

The  question  was  answered  in  a  few  minutes,  for  when 
the  three  horsemen  emerged  from  the  valley,  and  reached 


26  JULIAN  MORTIMER, 

the  summit  of  a  high  hill,  over  which  the  road  ran, 
Julian  looked  back  and  saw  a  bright  flame,  which  in- 
creased in  volume  every  moment,  shining  over  the  tops 
of  the  trees.  Then  he  knew  that  the  emigrants  had 
failed  in  their  attempts  to  beat  oft'  their  assailants.  The 
savages  had  succeeded  in  setting  fire  to  the  wagons 
which  formed  the  barricade,  and  when  that  protection 
was  swept  away,  the  battle  would  be  changed  to  a  mas- 
sacre. The  Indians  would  pour  into  the  camp  in  over- 
whelming numbers,  and  surrounded  as  the  emigrants 
were  on  every  side,  not  one  of  them  could  hope  to 
escape. 

"  Thar's  another  wagon  train  gone  up, "said  Sanders, 
with  savage  exultation.  "  It's  a  pity  that  every  one  of 
them  can't  be  sarved  the  same  way.  Why  don't  folks 
stay  in  the  States  whar  they  belong,  instead  of  coming 
out  here  whar  they  know  they  ain't  wanted?  How 
would  you  like  to  be  in  that  camp,  youngster  ?  " 

"I  don't  know  that  I  should  be  in  a  much  worse 
situation  than  I  am  now,"  replied  Julian.  "  If  I  were 
with  the  emigrants  I  should  probably  be  killed,  and  I 
am  not  sure  that  I  shall  fare  any  better  at  the  hands 
of  the  man  into  whose  power  you  intend  to  deliver  me." 

" That's  a  fact,"  said  Sanders,  reflectively.  "If  I 
was  in  your  place,  an'  was  tuk  pris'ner,  I  believe  I'd  as 
soon  be  among  the  Injuns  as  in  the  hands  of  Eeginald 
Mortimer." 

"Reginald  Mortimer!"  repeated  Julian,  in  great 
amazement. 

"  He's  the  very  feller  whose  name  I  spoke,"  replied 
Sanders,  turning  around  in  his  saddle  and  facing  his 
prisoner. 

Julian  looked  earnestly  at  the  trapper  for  a  few 
seconds  and  drew  a  long  breath  of  relief. 

"I  begin  to  understand  the  matter,"  said  he.  "I 
knew  you  were  mistaken  as  to  my  identity." 

"Which?"  exclaimed  Sanders. 

"  I  mean  that  you  have  got  hold  of  the  wrong  boy. 
Because  my  name  happens  to  be  Mortimer,  you  think  I 
am  the  one  this  man  Reginald  wants;  but  when  he  sees 
me  and  knows  my  history,  he  will  release  me." 


A  RIDE  Iff  THE  £>A£A\  27 

When  Sanders  heard  this  he  threw  back  his  head 
and  burst  into  a  loud  laugh,  in  which  he  was  joined  by 
Tom.  Julian  could  not  see  that  he  had  said  anything 
calculated  to  excite  their  mirth,  but  the  outlaws  could, 
and  they  were  highly  amused — so  much  so  that  it  was 
fully  five  minutes  before  they  recovered  themselves 
sufficiently  to  speak. 

"Wai,  you  are  a  green  one,"  said  Sanders,  at  length. 
"The  minute  Reginald  puts  his  eyes  on  you  he  will  say 
that  you  are  the  very  chap  he's  been  a-lookin'  fur  so 
long,  an'  instead  of  releasin'  you  he'll  lock  you  up  whar 
you'll  never  see  daylight  again.  Maybe  he'll  do  some- 
thing wuss — I  don't  know." 

"  I  wouldn't  put  myself  in  your  place  ana  run  tne 
risk,"  chimed  in  Tom.  "But  I'd  a  heap  sooner  be 
rubbed  out  to  onct  than  be  shut  up  in  that  rancho  of 
his'n.  Sich  queer  dpin's  as  they  do  have  thar!  The  ole 
man  can't  keep  a  thing  in  his  house." 

"What  is  the  reason!"  asked  Julian. 

"  'Cause  it's  stole  from  him,  that's  the  reason — money, 
we'pons,  clothes,  grub — everything.  He  can't  keep 
nothing. " 

"  Why  doesn't  he  lock  his  doors?" 

"  Haint  every  door  in  the  rancho  got  mor'n  a  dozen 
bolts  an'  chains  onto  it,  an'  don't  he  keep  three  or  four 
big  dogs  on  the  outside  of  the  house,  an'  as  many  more 
inside?  An'  haint  he  sot  up  night  after  night  with  his 
pistols  in  his  hands  watchin'  fur  the  thieves?  It  don't 
do  no  *arthly  good  whatsomever.  Things  is  missiii'  all 
the  while,  an'  nobody  don't  know  whar  they  go  to. 
You  see,"  added  Tom,  sinking  his  voice  almost  to  a 
whisper,  "  thar's  some  folks  besides  the  ole  man  livin' 
in  that  ar  rancho,  an'  they  don't  need  doors  an'  winders. 
They  can  go  through  a  keyhole,  or  a  crack  an  inch  wide, 
and  even  a  solid  stone  wall  can't  stop  'em.  I  slept  thar 
one  night,  an'  if  I  didn't  see 

"  Hold  your  grip,  Tom,"  interrupted  Sanders, 
hastily.  "  Somehow  I  don't  like  to  hear  that  thing 
spoke  ot.  That  rancho  is  a  bad  place  to  stop  at,  that's 
a  fact;  an'  I'd  as  soon  fight  a  fair  stand-up  battle  with 


28  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

the  biggest  grizzly  in  the  mountains  as  to  spend  an 
hour  thar  arter  sundown.  I  wouldn't  be  half  so  bad 
skeered." 

After  saying  this  Sanders  relapsed  into  silence  again, 
and  so  did  Tom;  and  Julian,  who  had  heard  just  enough 
to  excite  his  curiosity,  tried  in  vain  to  induce  them  to 
continue  the  conversation.  He  wanted  to  learn  some- 
thing about  Eeginald  Mortimer,  and  know  what  the 
trappers  had  seen  in  his  house  that  frightened  them  so 
badly;  but  they  paid  no  heed  to  his  questions,  and 
Julian  was  finally  obliged  to  give  it  up  in  despair. 

How  far  he  traveled  that  night  he  did  not  know.  He 
was  so  nearly  overcome  with  fear  and  anxiety,  and  so 
completely  absorbed  in  his  speculations  concerning  the 
future,  that  at  times  he  was  utterly  unconscious  of  what 
was  going  on  around  him.  All  he  remembered  was 
that  for  five  long  hours  Sanders  kept  his  horse  at  a  full 
gallop,  leading  the  way  at  reckless  speed  along  yawning 
chasms  and  under  beetling  cliffs  which  hung  threaten- 
ingly over  the  road,  that  he  became  so  weary  that  he 
reeled  about  in  his  saddle,  and  that  finally,  when  it 
seemed  to  him  that  he  could  no  longer  shake  off  the 
stupor  that  was  pressing  upon  him,  Sanders  suddenly 
drew  rein  and  announced  that  they  were  at  their  jour- 
ney's end. 

Julian  looked  up  and  found  himself  in  an  extensive 
valley,  which  stretched  away  to  the  right  and  left  as  far 
as  his  eyes  could  reach.  In  front  of  him  was  a  high 
stone  wall,  over  the  top  of  which  he  could  see  the  roof 
of  what  appeared  to  be  a  commodious  and  comfortable 
house.  The  building  was  evidently  intended  to  serve  as 
a  fortification  as  well  as  a  dwelling,  for  the  walls  were 
thick  and  provided  with  loop-holes,  and  the  windows 
were  protected  by  heavy  iron-bound  shutters. 

All  was  dark  and  silent  within  the  rancho;  but  when 
Sanders  pounded  upon  the  gate  with  the  butt  of  hia 
revolver,  a  chorus  of  hoarse  growls  arose  on  the  other 
side  of  the  wall,  and  a  pack  of  dogs  greeted  them  with 
furious  and  long-continued  barking.  Presently  Julian 
heard  a  door  open  and  close  in  the  rancho,  and  saw  the 


A  RIDE  IN  THE  DARK.  29 

light  of  a  lantern  shining  above  the  wall.  Then  came 
the  rattling  of  chains  and  the  grating  of  heavy  bolts, 
and  a  small  wicket  in  the  gate  swung  open  and  was 
immediately  filled  by  the  bull's-eye  of  a  powerful  dark 
lantern.  The  person  who  handled  the  lantern,  whoever 
he  was,  could  obtain  a  good  view  of  the  horsemen,  but 
they  could  not  see  him,  for  he  remained  in  the  shade, 
lie  consumed  a  good  deal  of  time  in  making  his  obser- 
vations, and  Sanders  began  to  grow  impatient. 

"  Wai,  Pedro,"  he  growled,  "when  you  get  through 
lookin'  at  us  you'll  let  us  in,  won't  you?  We've  got 
business  with  the  ole  man,  an'  we're  in  a  hurry.  I 
don't  want  to  stay  about  this  place  no  longer  than  I  can 
help,"  he  added,  in  an  undertone. 

The  sound  of  the  outlaw's  voice  must  have  satisfied 
the  man  as  to  the  identity  of  his  visitors,  for  he  closed 
the  wicket,  and  after  a  short  delay  opened  the  gate, 
and  Sanders  led  the  way  into  the  rancho. 


CHAPTEE   IV. 

JULIAN   FINDS   A    KELATIVE. 


|AD  JULIAN  been  entering  a  prison,  knowing 
that  he  was  destined  to  remain  there  for  the 
term  of  his  natural  life,  he  could  not  have 

been  more  terrified  than  he  was  when  he 

found  himself  surrounded  by  the  gloomy  walls  of  the 
rancho,  and  heard  the  ponderous  gate  clang  behind  him. 
He  was  playing  an  involuntary  part  in  a  strange  and 
mysterious  drama,  and  the  uncertainty  of  what  might 
be  the  next  scene  in  which  he  would  be  forced  to  assist, 
kept  him  in  a  terrible  state  of  suspense.  But  he  was 
blessed  with  more  than  an  ordinary  share  of  courage, 
and  when  the  first  momentary  thrill  of  terror  had  passed 
away,  he  called  it  all  to  his  aid,  and  prepared  to  meet 
whatever  was  in  store  for  him  with  an  undaunted  front. 
He  appeared  to  be  much  more  at  his  ease  than  the  two 
trappers,  for  they  had  suddenly  lost  their  swaggering, 
confident  air,  and  were  gazing  about  them  uneasily  as 
though  they  were  apprehensive'of  discovering  something 
they  did  not  care  to  see. 

"He's  all  grit,  haint  he?"  whispered  Sanders,  who,  as 
well  as  his  companion,  seemed  surprised  at  the  captive's 
coolness  and  indifference.  "  He's  a  genuine  Mortimer." 

"Mebbe  he'll  look  different  afore  he  has  been  many 
hours  inside  these  yere  walls,"  replied  Tom,  in  the  same 
cautious  whisper.  "  Wait  till  he  gets  into  the  house  an' 
sees  him,  as  I  saw  him  one  night." 

''Well,  if  you're  going  in  you  had  better  dismount, 
hadn't  you?  Or  do  you  intend  to  ride  your  horses  in? 
NVho's  this  you  have  here?" 

It  was  Pedro  who  spoke.  He  had  lingered  to  fasten 
the  gate,  and  now  came  up  and  elevated  his  lantern  to 
take  a  survey  of  the  trappers  and  their  prisoner.  When. 


JULIAN  FINDS  A  RELA  TIVE.  31 

the  rays  from  the  bull's-eye  fell  upon  Julian's  features 
he  staggered  back  as  if  he  had  been  shot,  his  face  grew 
deadly  pale,  and  his  whole  frame  trembled  violently. 

"  It  isn't— it  isn't " 

Pedro  tried  to  pronounce  some  name,  but  it  seemed  to 
stick  in  his  throat. 

"  No,  it  isn't  Mm,"  replied  Sanders;  "  it's  the  other." 

"Not  Julian?"  exclaimed  the  Mexican,  plainly  much 
relieved. 

"  Yes,  Julian,  an'  nobody  else." 

"Why,  how  came  he  here?  Where  did  you  find 
him?" 

"Now,  Pedro,  you  haven't  offered  us  $5,000  to 
bring  him  to  you  safe  an'  sound,  have  you?  Them's 
questions  we  don't  answer  for  nobody  except  the  ole  man. 
We  want  to  see  him,  an'  purty  quick,  too." 

Sanders  dismounted  from  his  horse,  and  at  a  sign  from 
him  Tom  and  Julian  did  the  same.  Pedro  led  the  way 
toward  the  door  of  the  rancho,  shaking  his  head  and 
ejaculating  in  both  Spanish  and  English,  and  turning 
around  now  and  then  to  look  sharply  at  Julian  as  if  he 
had  not  yet  been  able  to  make  up  his  mind  whether  he 
was  a  solid  flesh  and  blood  boy  or  only  a  spirit.  He  con- 
ducted the  trappers  and  their  captive  into  the  house,  and 
after  pausing  to  fasten  the  door,  led  them  through  a  long, 
wide  hall,  the  walls  of  which  were  hung  with  old- 
fashioned  pictures  and  implements  of  the  chase,  and 
ushered  them  into  an  elegantly  furnished-  room;  and 
after  taking  one  more  good  look  at  Julian,  waved  his 
hand  toward  a  couple  of  chairs  and  asked  the  trappers 
to  be  seated. 

"  I  will  go  and  tell  the  governor  who  you  are,  and 
whom  you  have  brought  with  you,"  said  he. 

"Hold  your  horses!"  exclaimed  Sanders,  suddenly, 
and  in  great  excitement.  "  You  haint  agoin'  to  take 
that  light  with  you  an'  leave  us  here  in  the  dark?  I 
wouldn't  stay  here  fur  all  the  money  the  ole  man's  got 
stowed  away  in  that  cave  of  his'n,  if  it's  $50,000." 

"  Fifty  thousand!"  sneered  Pedro.  "  You  have  Queer 
ideas  of  wealth.  Better  say  fifty  million;  and  he  don't 


32  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

know  where  it  is  any  more  than  you  do.  He'll  find  out 
now,  however/'  added  the  Mexican,  with  a  hasty  glance 
at  Julian. 

"  Wai,  put  that  lantern  on  the  table  if  you're  goin' 
out,"  repeated  Sanders. 

Pedro  muttered  something  about  having  any  thing 
but  an  exalted  opinion  of  a  man,  who,  after  braving  in- 
numerable dangers,  was  afraid  to  remain  in  a  dark  room 
for  a  moment  or  two,  but  he  complied  with  the  request. 
He  placed  the  lantern  on  the  table  and  went  out,  leaving 
the  trappers  and  Julian  to  themselves.  The  latter  sunk 
helplessly  into  the  nearest  chair,  while  Sanders  and  his 
companion,  after  looking  all  about  the  room  to  make 
sure  that  there  was  no  fourth  person  present,  moved  up 
closer  together  and  stood  regarding  one  another  with  an 
expression  of  great  amazement  on  their  faces. 

"Fifty  million!"  whispered  Sanders,  who  was  the  first 
to  speak.  "Do  you  believe  it?" 

"  That's  a  monstrous  heap  of  money,"  replied  Tom — 
"  more'n  the  hul  State  of  Californy  is  worth.  But  I've 
allers  heern  tell  that  old  Keginald  had  more  yaller  boys 
stowed  away  in  this  rancho  than  a  wagon  train  could 
haul  away.  If  it's  a  fact,  we've  made  a  mistake  by " 

He  finished  the  sentence  by  jerking  his  thumb  over 
his  shoulder  toward  Julian. 

"Sartin,  we  have,"  replied  Sanders.  "We  hadn't 
oughter  give  him  up  for  no  $5,000.  Pedro  told  us  that 
the  ole  man  don't  know  whar  the  money  is  any  more'n 
we  do,  but  that  he  would  find  out  all  about  it  now;  and 
when  he  said  that  he  looked  at  Julian.  Did  you  notice?" 

Tom  replied  in  the  affirmative. 

"  That  means  that  the  money  is  hid  somewhars;  but 
it  can't  be  that  the  boy  knows  whar  it  is,  'cause  he  was 
so  young  when  he  was  took  away  from  here.  Thar's  a 
heap  o'  things  about  this  house  an'  family  that  I  would 
like  to  have  made  clear  to  me.  But  I  know  one  thing, 
an'  that  is,  we  can  make  up  011  the  other  feller  what  we 
lose  on  Julian;  an'  besides,  we  can  watch  our  chance  an' 
steal  the  boy  out  agin  when — what's  that?  Did  you  hear 
anything,  youngster?" 


JULIAN  FINDS  A  RE  LA  TIVR.  33 

Sanders'  voice  trembled  as  he  asked  this  question,  and 
facing  suddenly  about  he  gazed  first  toward  the  farther 
end  of  the  room,  and  then  toward  Ju'ian,  who  hud 
started  to  his  feet,  and  stood  looking  the  very  picture 
of  bewilderment. 

"  I  did,"  replied  the  boy,  in  a  scarcely  audible  whis- 
per; "and  I  saw  something  moving  those  curtains, 
too." 

The  walls  of  the  room  into  which  Julian  and  his  cap- 
tors had  been  conducted,  instead  of  being  plastered  or 
papered,  were  concealed  by  crimson  hangings  which  ex- 
tended from  the  ceiling  to  the  floor.  These  were  the 
curtains  of  which  he  had  spoken. 

As  he  sat  listening  in  a  dreamy  sort  of  way  to  the 
whispered  conversation  of  the  trappers,  he  heard  a  grat- 
ing noise  on  the  other  side  of  the  hangings  resembling 
that  which  would  be  occasioned  by  a  key  turning  in  a 
rusty  lock. 

A  bright,  dazzling  light  blazed  up  for  an  instant  and 
was  extinguished,  and  then  the  hangings  were  pushed 
aside  a  ad  a  pair  of  eyes  appeared  at  the  opening  and 
looked  into  the  room. 

Julian  saw  a  portion  of  the  face  to  which  they  be- 
longed and  sprang  to  his  feet  in  great  astonishment,  for 
he  thought  he  recognized  the  features  of  the  emigrant 
whose  conversation  with  Sanders  he  had  overheard.  But 
the  face  was  withdrawn  almost  as  soon  as  it  appeared, 
and  Julian  was  not  allowed  a  second  look. 

"What  did  you  see?"  cried  Sanders,  his  face  ghastly 
pale,  and  the  hand  which  rested  on  the  lock  of  his  rifle 
trembling  visibly. 

"I  saw  some  one  looking  in  here,"  replied  Julian, 
"  and  it  was  the  same  man  who  offered  you  a  thousand 
dollars  to  put  me  out  of  the  way." 

"Dick  Mortimer!"  Sanders  almost  shrieked. 

The  expression  of  terror  on  his  face  gave  way  instantly 
to  a  look  of  profound  astonishment.  He  dropped  the 
butt  of  his  rifle  heavily  to  the  floor,  and  Tom  uttered  a 
long-drawn  whistle. 

The  two  men  stared  vacantly  at  one  another  for  a 


34  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

moment,  aiid  then  with  a  common  impulse  sprang  across 
the  room  and  tore  aside  the  hangings. 

There  was  no  one  there.  Nothing  was  revealed  ex- 
cept the  solid  stone  wall  which  formed  that  side  of  the 
room.  Where  could  the  emigrant  have  gone?  He  cer- 
tainly had  not  come  into  the  room,  and  neither  could 
he  have  retreated  through  the  wall.  Julian  stood  trans- 
fixed. 

"I  know  I  saw  him  there,"  said  he,  as  soon  as  he 
could  speak.  "  It  beats  me  where  he  could  have  gone 
so  suddenly." 

"  That's  nothing,"  replied  Sanders.  "  You'll  be  beat 
wuss  than  this  if  you  stay  in  this  rancho  all  night,  I  can 
tell  you  that." 

But  the  trapper's  actions  indicated  that  it  was  some- 
thing, after  all,  for  as  soon  as  he  had  satisfied  himself 
that  the  emigrant  had  disappeared,  he  dropped  the  hang- 
ings as  if  they  had  been  coals  of  fire,  and  snatching  the 
lantern  from  the  table  retreated  toward  the  door  with 
all  possible  haste,  with  Tom  close  at  his  heels.  Nor 
was  Julian  far  behind  the  trappers  when  they  reached 
the  hall. 

He  did  not  wonder  now  that  they  were  impatient  to 
transact  their  business  and  leave  the  house.  He- would 
have  been  glad  to  leave  it  himself.  His  captors  had 
told  him  that  there  were  some  "  queer  doings"  in  that 
rancho.  Did  they  refer  to  scenes  like  this?  Were  people 
who,  like  this  emigrant,  had  no  business  there,  in  the 
habit  of  walking  about  the  house  every  night,  and  oi 
vanishing  after  such  a  bewildering  fashion  when  discov- 
ered;  and  was  he  to  be  compelled  to  remain  there  a  wit- 
ness to  such  proceedings. 

The  boy  trembled  at  the  thought.  He  was  not  super* 
stitious.  He  knew  that  he  had  seen  the  face  of  a  man 
peeping  out  from  behind  the  hangings,  and  he  believed, 
too,  that  his  sudden  and  mysterious  disappearance  could 
be  explained,  and  that  there  was  nothing  supernatural 
about  it;  but  nevertheless  he  resolved  that  as  long  as  he 
was  allowed  the  free  use  of  his  feet  he  would  not  remain 
in  a  dark  room  in  that  house  without  company. 


JULIAN  FINDS  A  RELA  TIVE.  35 

When  the  trappers  retreated  into  the  hall  he  went 
with  them,  and  like  them,  kept  his  back  turned  toward 
the  room,  and  impatiently  awaited  Pedro's  return.  Nor 
was  he  obliged  to  wait  long. 

In  a  few  seconds  he  heard  a  door  open  and  close,  a 
light  flashed  into  the  hall,  and  two  men  came  hurrying 
toward  him.  One  of  them  was  Pedro,  and  the  other 
was  a  tall,  foreign-looking  gentleman,  in  dressing-gown 
and  slippers,  who  came  along  with  a  smile  on  his  face, 
and  his  hand  outstretched,  as  if  about  to  greet  some 
friend  from  whom  he  had  long  been  separated. 

Upon  reaching  Julian's  side  he  threw  his  arms  around 
him  and  clasped  him  in  a  most  affectionate  embrace — to 
which  the  boy  submitted  without  uttering  a  word.  He 
had  not  expected  such  a  reception  as  this;  and,  if  one 
might  judge  by  the  expression  on  the  faces  of  the  trap- 
pers, they  had  not  expected  it  either.  Their  under- 
jaws  dropped  down,  they  stared  at  one  another  for  a 
moment,  and  then  Tom  gave  utterance  to  another  long- 
drawn  whistle,  and  Sanders  pounded  the  floor  with  the 
butt  of  his  rifle. 

"Julian!  Julian!  is  it  possible  that  you  have  returned 
at  last?"  cried  the  gentleman,  holding  the  boy  off  at 
arm's  length  for  a  moment,  and  then  straining  him  to 
his  breast  once  more.  "Don't  you  know  your  Uncle 
Keginald?" 

"  It's  him  sure  enough,  ain't  it?"  asked  Sanders. 

"Of  course  it  is  he,"  replied  the  owner  of  the  rancho, 
still  clinging  to  Julian  as  if  he  never  meant  to  lot  him 
go  again.  "I  should  have  recognized  him  if  I  had.  met 
him  in  Asia.  No  one  but  a  Mortimer  could  ever  boast 
of  such  a  face  as  that.  Where  did  you  find  mm? 
Julian,  why  don't  you  tell  me  that  you  are  glad  to  see 
me?" 

"I  say,  guv'nor,"  interrupted  Sanders,  "couldn't  he 
talk  to  you  jest  as  well  arter  we  are  gone?  Me  an'  my 
pardner  are  in  a  monstrous  hurry.  How  about  them 
$5,000?" 

"  I  will  place  it  in  your  hands  this  moment.  Coni& 
with  me." 


36  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

Seizing  Julian  by  the  hand,  Eeginald  Mortimer — for 
that  was  the  gentleman's  name — led  the  way  along  the 
hall,  and  into  a  room  which  the  prisoner  saw  Avas  used 
as  a  sleeping  apartment,  for  there  was  the  bed  from 
which  this  man,  who  claimed  to  be  his  uncle,  had  just 
arisen. 

Conducting  the  boy  to  a  seat  on  the  sofa,  and  leaving 
the  trappers  to  stand  or  sit  as  suited  their  fancy,  the  gen- 
tleman produced  a  bunch  of  keys  from  his  desk  and  un- 
locked a  strong  box  which  was  standing  at  the  head  of 
his  bed. 

When  the  lid  was  thrown  back  Julian  opened  his  eyes 
and  leaned  forward  to  obtain  a  nearer  view  of  the  con- 
tents of  the  box. 

Such  a  sight  he  had  never  seen  before.  The  box  was 
literally  filled  with  gold  coin — some  of  it  packed  away 
in  little  drawers,  and  the  rest  tied  up  in  canvas  bags. 
Two  of  these  bags  the  owner  lifted  out  of  the  box  and 
handed  to  the  trappers,  saying: 

"  There  is  the  money  I  promised  to  give  you  if  you 
succeeded  in  restoring  Julian  to  me  safe  and  sound.  I 
give  you  my  hearty  thanks  beside,  for  you  have  rendered 
me  a  most  important  service.  Pedro,  show  Sanders  and 
his  friend  to  the  best  room  in  the  house." 

" Nary  time,  if  you  please !"  exclaimed  the  trapper, 
with  a  frightened  look.  "  We'll  feel  a  heap  better,  an* 
sleep  a  sight  easier,  if  we  camp  in  the  mountains." 

"  But  I  want  to  talk  to  you  about  Julian.  Where 
did  you  find  him?" 

"  We'll  tell  you  all  about  that  when  we  bring  the 
other  feller  to  you." 

"The  other  fellow?" 

"Yes;  that  is,  if  we  can  come  to  tarms." 

"Whom  do  you  mean?" 

"  Silas  Koper.  Say  another  five  thousand  fur  him, 
an*  we'll  have  him  here  to-morrow  bright  an'  arly." 

"Silas  Roper!"  exclaimed  the  gentleman,  gleefully. 
"Am  I  not  in  luck?  Certainly,  I  say  it;  bring  him 
immediately." 

"  It's  a  bargain.     Come  pn,  Tom." 


JULIAN  FINDS  A  RELATIVE.  37 

"Well,  go,  if  yon  must,  and  remember  that  although 
I  am  under  obligations  to  you  now,  I  shall  be  vastly 
more  your  debtor  when  you  give  that  man  into  my 
hands.  My  plans  are  working  splendidly." 

When  the  door  had  closed  behind  the  trappers  Reg- 
inald Mortimer  locked  his  strong  box  and  once  more 
turned  toward  Julian.  The  latter,  who  since  his  arrival 
at  the  rancho  had  moved  like  one  in  a  dream,  aroused 
himself  by  a  strong  effort  and  looked  squarely  into  the 
man's  face.  lie  gazed  at  him  a  moment,  arid  then 
sprung  to  his  feet  with  a  cry  of  alarm  and  r»u  toward 
the  door. 


CHAPTER  V. 

JULIAN'S    HOME. 

E  HAVE  said  that  Julian  Mortimer  was  the 
hero  of  our  story,  and  in  order  that  you  may 
imderstand  what  brought  him  to  the  moun- 
tains, and  how  it  came  that  several  persons 
whom  he  believed  he  had  never  seen  before  should 
take  so  deep  an  interest  in  him,  we  must  go  back  and 
relate  some  events  that  transpired  previous  to  the  be- 
ginning of  our  story. 

On  the  banks  of  the  Missouri  River,  about  fifty  miles 
below  St.  Joseph,  was  a  small  clearing,  in  which  stood 
a  dilapidated  cabin  inhabited  by  the  family  of  John 
Bowles.  It  was  a  gloomy-looking  place,  and  that  was 
not  to  be  wondered  at,  for  Jack,  as  he  was  familiarly 
called,  was  not  the  man  to  waste  any  of  his  time  or 
money  in  beautifying  his  home.  Both  were  much  too 
precious  for  that.  His  time  was  spent  in  hunting  and 
trapping,  and  his  money — what  little  he  earned — was 
devoted  to  the  purchase  of  bad  whisky,  of  which  he 
was  exceedingly  fond.  He  was  a  tall,  heavy,  broad- 
shouldered  man,  and  looked  the  very  impersonation  of 
laziness.  His  two  boys,  Jake  and  Tom,  were  chips  of 
the  old  block,  and  his  wife  was  a  sharp-featured,  ill- 
ternpered  woman  of  wonderful  strength  and  daring, 
and  it  was  said  that  in  a  fair  rough-and-tumble  fight — 
for  things  came  to  that  sometimes  in  the  cabin  of  Mr. 
Bowles — she  was  more  than  a  match  for  her  redoubtable 
husband. 

The  neighboring  settlers  had  but  little  to  do  with 
Jack.  They  remarked  that  his  family  went  clothed  in 
rags  from  one  year's  end  to  another;  that  they  were 
sometimes  destitute  of  even  the  common  necessities  of 
life;  and  that  Jack  hunted  early  and  late  and  spent 


JULIAN'S  HOME.  39 

every  cent  he  made  at  the  grocery  at  "  The  Corners." 
But  one  stormy  night  a  stranger  was  seen  to  ride  rapidly 
away  from  the  cabin,  and  from  that  hour  things  seemed 
to  take  a  turn  for  the  better  with  Jack  Bowles.  He 
and  his  family  appeared  in  brand  new  suits  of  clothing; 
the  boys  sported  silver-mounted  rifles  in  place  of  the 
rusty  single-barreled  shot-guns  in  which  they  had  be- 
fore taken  so  much  delight;  a  neighbor,  who  knew 
something  of  the  use  of  carpenters'  tools,  was  employed 
to  patch  up  the  cabin,  and  Jack  gave  up  hunting  and 
spent  his  days  and  nights  in  lounging  about  the  grocery, 
drinking  whisky  and  showing  large  rolls  of  bills  and 
handfuls  of  gold  and  silver.  The  settlers  noticed,  too, 
that  the  cabin  had  an  inmate  whom  they  had  never 
seen  before — a  slender,  fair-haired  boy  about  eight  years 
of  age,  who  seemed  to  be  altogether  out  of  his  element 
there.  And  they  told  one  another  also  that  Jack  and 
his  wife  had  reasons  for  wishing  to  keep  him  out  of 
sight  as  much  as  possible,  for  whenever  any  one  passed 
the  clearing  the  boy  would  be  summoned  into  the  house 
by  the  shrill  voice  of  Mrs.  Bowles,  and  the  door  closed 
upon  him. 

From  this  they  naturally  concluded  that  the  boy  and 
the  money  Jack  spent  so  freely  were  in  some  way  con- 
nected; and,  when  hard  pressed,  Jack  acknowledged 
that  such  was  the  fact.  He  said  that  the  boy's  name 
was  Julian  Mortimer;  that  he  had  been  brought  to  the 
cabin  by  a  stranger  who  wished  to  leave  him  there  for  a 
month  or  two  while  he  went  on  a  business  tour  to  New 
Orleans;  and  that  he  had  paid  a  few  weeks'  board  for 
him  in  advance.  There  was  one  thing,  however,  that 
Jack  did  not  see  fit  to  disclose,  and  that  was  that  the 
stranger  had  cautioned  him  to  keep  strict  watch  over 
the  boy,  and  under  no  circumstances  to  allow  him  far 
out  of  his  sight.  For  awhile  the  settlers  wondered 
greatly  at  this  story;  but  it  soon  ceased  to  be  the  topic  of 
conversation,  and  finally  even  the  circumstance  of  the 
stranger's  visit  was  forgotten. 

Weeks  grew  into  months,  and  months  into  years,  and 
Julian  Mortimer  was  still  an  inmate  of  Jack  Bowies' 


40  JULIA N  MOR  TIMER. 

cabin,  which  he  had  learned  to  call  home.  The  money 
that  had  been  paid  for  his  board  had  long  ago  been 
squandered  at  The  Corners,  and  Jack  had  been  obliged 
to  overhaul  his  long-neglected  implements  of  the  chase, 
and  resume  his  old  occupation  of  hunting  and  trapping. 

The  cabin  was  in  a  worse  condition  now  than  it  was 
before  it  was  repaired.  It  was  built  of  rough,  unhewn 
logs,  and  contained  but  one  room.  It  had  no  floor — the 
ground,  which  had  been  trampled  upon  until  it  was  as 
hard  as  a  rock,  answering  that  purpose.  The  only 
furniture  it  could  boast  of  were  two  miserable  beds,  and 
a  three-legged  pine  table  that  had  been  pushed  against 
the  wall  to  enable  it  to  retain  its  upright  position.  As 
for  chairs,  there  were  none;  the  places  of  these  useful 
articles  being  supplied  with  boxes  and  empty  nail-kegs. 
There  were  no  windows  in  the  cabin,  all  the  light  and 
air  being  admitted  through  the  door,  which  was  allowed 
to  stand  open  during  the  coldest  days  in  winter. 

A  ladder  on  one  side  of  the  room  led  to  the  loft  where 
Julian  slept.  It  was  the  most  uncomfortable  part  of  the 
house,  for  some  of  the  boards  at  the  gable-end  had  fallen 
off,  the  shingles  on  the  roof  were  loose,  and  during  a 
storm  the  rain  and  sleet  rattled  down  on  his  hard  pillow. 
There  was  nothing  inviting  about  Julian's  bed,  for  it 
was  simply  a  pile  of  husks,  with  a  large  gunny  sack,  a 
tattered  blanket,  and  one  or  two  ragged  coats  spread 
over  it.  But  he  always  went  to  that  bed  aching  in  every 
muscle  after  his  hard  day's  work,  and  slept  as  soundly 
there,  in  spite  of  the  cold  wind  and  rattling  shingles,  as 
if  it  had  been  a  couch  of  down. 

One  end  of  the  cabin  was  occupied  by  an  immense 
fire-place,  with  a  stick  chimney,  which  leaned  away  from 
the  building  as  if  about  to  topple  over.  A  fire  was 
burning  brightly  on  the  hearth  one  cold  afternoon  in 
March,  and  before  it  stood  Mrs.  Bowles,  watching  some 
venison  steaks  that  were  broiling  on  the  coals,  and 
smoking  a  short  cob  pipe,  which  was  held  firmly  between 
her  teeth.  She  was  angry — that  Avas  plain  enough  to  be 
seen — and,  indeed,  it  would  have  been  difficult  to  find 
her  in  any  other  mood.  She  thought  she  had  good 


JULIAN'S  HOME.  41 

reasons  for  showing  her  temper  occasionally,  for  "that 
Julian,"  as  she  called  the  household  drudge,  was  the 
plague  of  her  life.  More  than  half  an  hour  ago  she  had 
sent  him  out  after  firewood,  and  although  she  had  called 
him  three  times,  and  promised  to  dust  his  jacket  for 
him  the  moment  he  came  within  reach  of  her  arm — a 
threat  that  never  failed  to  quicken  the  pace  of  her  sons 
— he  had  not  yet  returned.  She  watched  the  broiling 
steaks  for  a  few  minutes,  listening  the  while  for  the 
sound  of  footsteps,  and  then  went  to  the  door,  removed 
the  pipe  from  her  mouth,  threw  back  her  head  an  3 
shrieked : 

"  You,  Julian!  Have  you  gone  clear  to  St.  Joe  arter 
that  firewood?1' 

This  time  her  shrill  tones  reached  the  ears  of  a  young 
fellow  about  sixteen  years  of  age,  who  was  at  work  in 
the  edge  of  the  woods  at  a  short  distance  from  the  house. 
We  ought  rather  to  say  that  he  had  been  at  work,  and 
was  resting  from  his  labor,  leaning  on  his  ax  and  gazing 
thoughtfully  at  the  ground  when  the  woman's  sharp 
voice  broke  in  upon  his  reverie. 

"  There  it  is  again,"  said  he,  with  a  long-drawn  sigh, 
lifting  his  ax  and  resuming  nis  work.  "It's  Julian! 
Julian!  from  morning  untii  night.  Julian  has  to  do 
everything  that  is  done  on  the  farm.  I  shouldn't  mind 
the  work  so  much  if  they  would  only  give  me  some  warm 
clothes  and  say  a  kind  word  to  me  now  and  then;  but 
they  won't  do  it.  Look  at  that,"  he  added,  pausing, 
with  his  ax  suspended  in  the  air,  and  gazing  do \vnat  his 
boots,  which  were  so  sadly  out  of  repair  that  they 
afforded  his  feet  but  very  little  protection  from  the  mud, 
and  none  Avhatever  from  the  sharp,  biting  air.  "  This 
coat  is  so  thin  that  the  wind  blows  right  through  it;  and 
as  for  this  hat — well,  perhaps  it  is  better  than  none  at 
all,  but  not  much.  These  are  the  only  clothes  I  have  in 
the  world,  and  they  are  the  best  I  have  owned  since  I 
came  to  this  place  eight  years  ago.  I  have  money  enough 
to  buy  others,  but  1  dare  not  do  it,  for  fear  that  they 
will  be  taken  away  from  me  and  given  to  that  lazy  Jake 
or  Tom.  And  as  for  the  treatment  I  receive — why, 


42  JULIAN  MOR  TIMER. 

there  isn't  a  dog  on  the  place  so  badly  abused.  I 
suppose  I  shall  get  another  beating  now  for  keeping 
Mrs.  Bowles  waiting  for  this  firewood." 

When  Julian  had  finished  his  soliloquy  and  his  chop- 
ping, he  threw  down  his  ax,  and  shouldering  one  of  the 
heavy  back-logs  he  had  cut,  made  his  way  slowly  toward 
the  house.  Mrs.  Bowles  was  too  busily  engaged  with 
her  preparations  for  supper  to  think  of  the  rawhide 
which  she  had  taken  from  its  accustomed  nail  behind 
the  door  and  laid  upon  the  table  close  at  her  side,  and 
Julian  succeeded  in  transferring  his  pile  of  wood  from 
the  edge  of  the  clearing  to  the  cabin  without  attracting 
her  attention.  This  done,  his  work  for  the  night  was 
over,  and  he  was  at  liberty  to  attend  to  a  little  business 
of  his  own. 

Drawing  on  a  pair  of  tattered  gloves  he  left  the  house, 
and  walking  briskly  past  the  corn-cribs,  struck  into  the 
path  that  led  through  the  woods  to  The  Corners,  turn- 
ing his  head  now  and  then  to  make  sure  that  there  was 
no  one  observing  his  movements.  Had  he  taken  pains 
to  look  closely  at  one  of  the  corn-cribs  as  he  went  past 
it,  he  would  have  discovered  two  pairs  of  eyes  peering 
through  an  opening  over  the  door;  and  had  he  glanced 
behind  him  when  he  reached  the  cover  of  the  woods, 
he  would  have  seen  the  door  fly  open  and  two  figures 
spring  out  and  run  swiftly  along  the  path  in  pursuit  of 
him. 

Julian  had  set  out  to  visit  his  traps.  Minks,  foxes 
and  raccoons  were  abundant  in  the  woods  about  the 
clearing,  and  he  was  very  expert  in  taking  them.  Dur- 
ing the  last  two  winters  he  had  earned  a  sum  of  money 
that  was  quite  a  respectable  fortune  in  his  eyes;  and 
more  than  that,  he  had  purchased  an  excellent  rifle,  a 
supply  of  ammunition  and  a  fine  young  horse,  which  he 
intended  should  some  day  carry  him  miles  and  miles  out 
of  the  reach  of  Mrs.  Bowies'  rawhide. 

The  rifle,  together  with  his  money  and  stock  of  furs, 
was  concealed  where  no  one  would  ever  think  of  looking 
for  it;  but  the  horse  was  claimed  by  Tom  Bowles,  Jack's 
younger  son,  who  took  possession  of  the  animal  as  soon. 


JULIAN'S  HOME.  43 

as  Julian  brought  him  home.  But  that  was  a  matter 
that  did  not  trouble  our  hero.  Of  course  he  was  denied 
the  pleasure  of  riding  the  horse — for  Jake  and  Tom  fol- 
io Aved  the  example  set  them  by  their  parents,  and  tyran- 
nized over  Julian  in  every  possible  way — but  he  knew 
Avhere  to  find  him  when  he  wanted  him;  and  when  he 
was  ready  to  undertake  the  journey  he  had  been  plan- 
ning and  thinking  about,  he  intended  to  take  posses- 
sion of  him  without  consulting  Tom  Bowles  or  any  one 
else. 

On  the  day  that  Julian  first  brought  the  horse  home 
he  created  quite  a  commotion  in  the  Bowles  family. 
When  he  told  Jack,  in  the  presence  of  his  wife  and  sons, 
that  the  animal  was  his  own  private  property,  and  that 
he  had  paid  875  in  cash  for  him,  the  inquiry  very  natur- 
ally arose,  where  did  the  money  come  from?  That  was 
a  matter  that  Julian  did  not  care  to  talk  about.  If  he 
replied  that  he  had  received  it  for  the  furs  he  had 
trapped,  he  knew  that  Jack  and  his  boys  would  hunt 
the  woods  over  until  they  found  his  dead-falls,  and  then 
rob  and  destroy  them. 

He  declined  to  enlighten  them  on  this  point,  and  that 
created  on  uproar  at  once.  Jack  swore  lustily;  Mrs. 
Bowles  flourished  her  rawhide;  Tom  took  charge  of  the 
horse  and  led  him  off  to  the  stable;  and  Jake  threatened 
to  black  his  eye  for  him.  But  Julian,  who  was  not  one 
of  the  sort  who  are  easily  frightened,  remained  firm,  and 
Jack  and  his  boys  were  compelled  to  change  their  tactics 
and  resort  to  strategy. 

They  told  one  another  that  they  would  keep  a  sharp 
eye  on  all  Julian's  movements,  and  follow  him  wherever 
he  went;  and  if  they  did  not  find  out  what  he  did  in 
the  woods  while  he  was  there,  and  what  it  was  that  took 
him  away  from  home  so  regularly  every  night  and  morn- 
ing, they  would  know  the  reason  why. 

But  even  this  plan  failed,  for  Julian  was  always  on 
the  alert  and  could  not  be  caught  napping.  His  ears,  as 
sharp  as  an  Indian's,  always  told  him  when  he  was  fol- 
lowed. On  such  occasions  he  would  stroll  carelessly 
about  through  the  woods,  as  if  he  had  no  particular 


44  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

object  in  view,  and  finally  make  his  way  home  again 
and  go  to  work.  Then  Tom  and  Jake  would  be  angrier 
than  ever,  and  Julian  was  certain  to  suffer  for  his  watch- 
fulness. 

On  this  particular  evening,  however,  Julian  was  not 
as  careful  as  usual.  The  plans  he  had  been  so  long  ma- 
turing were  almost  ready  to  carry  into  execution,  and 
he  was  so  completely  wrapped  up  in  his  glorious  antici- 
pations concerning  the  future  that  he  did  not  hear  the 
light  footsteps  of  Jake  and  Tom  as  they  dodged  through 
the  bushes  behind  him. 

He  walked  straight  to  the  creek,  and  from  the  force 
of  long  habit,  paused  on  the  bank  to  look  about  him. 
Having  satisfied  himself  that  there  was  no  one  in  sight, 
he  sprung  into  the  bed  of  the  stream,  and  looking 
under  the  overhanging  roots  of  a  beech  where  he  had 
set  one  of  his  traps,  discovered  a  large  mink  caught  by 
one  of  his  hind  feet. 

A  blow  on  the  head  with  a  stick  stilled  the  animal, 
and  after  resetting  and  baiting  the  trap,  Julian  picked 
up  his  prize,  and  rejoicing  in  the  thought  that  the 
skin  of  the  mink  would  bring  $2  more  to  be  added  to 
his  little  fortune,  hurried  on  up  the  creek. 

For  an  hour  Julian  continued  his  walk,  stopping  now 
and  then  to  bait  and  set  a  trap  that  had  been  sprung  by 
some  animal  too  cunning  to  be  caught,  or  to  take  a  fox, 
mink  or  raccoon  out  of  another,  and  finally  he  stopped 
at  the  foot  of  a  precipitous  cliff  with  $13  worth  of  furs 
thrown  over  his  shoulder — not  a  bad  afternoon's  work 
for  a  trapper  of  his  years. 

He  now  became  more  cautious  than  ever  in  his  move- 
ments. His  first  care  was  to  convince  himself  that 
there  was  no  one  following  him;  and  in  order  to  set  his 
fears  on  this  score  at  rest,  he  dropped  his  game  and  ran 
back  along  the  bank  of  the  creek,  peering  through  the 
trees  in  every  direction,  and  passing  so  close  to  Tom 
and  Jake,  who  had  thrown  themselves  behind  a  log  to 
escape  discovery,  that  he  could  have  touched  them. 
But  he  saw  no  one,  and  believing  himself  to  be  alone  in 
the  woods,  he  once  more  shouldered  his  game  and  made 


JULIANA  HOME.  45 

his  way  up  the  cliff  until  he  reached  a  thicket  of  bushes 
that  grew  near  the  summit. 

Here  he  paused,  and  began  pulling  away  the  leaves 
with  his  hands,  presently  disclosing  to  view  a  small 
door  which  had  been  set  into  the  face  of  the  cliff. 
The  opening  of  the  door  revealed  what  appeared  to  be 
the  mouth  of  a  cave,  extending  down  into  the  ground. 
Julian  threw  in  his  foxes  and  minks  one  after  the  other, 
and  then  crawled  in  himself  and  closed  the  door  after 
him. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

JULIAX   MEETS   A    STRANGER. 

ULIAN'S  first  move,  after  he  had  shut 
the  door,  was  to  strike  a  match,  and  his 
second  to  light  a  candle  which  he  took  from 
a  shelf  close  at  hand.  As  the  light  blazed 
up,  lie  held  it  above  his  head  and  took  a  survey  of  the 
cave,  or,  as  he  called  it,  his  "store-house."  It  was  a 
very  small  one — not  more  than  six  feet  square — but  it 
was  large  enough  to  contain  all  Julian's  earthly  posses- 
sions. All  that  could  be  seen  was  a  quantity  of  furs, 
some  already  cured  and  neatly  baled  up,  and  others 
hanging  against  the  walls  stretched  upon  boards  and 
frames  to  dry;  but  there  were  other  valuable  articles 
stowed  away  there,  and  as  soon  as  Julian  had  glanced 
about  the  room  to  see  that  nothing  had  been  disturbed 
during  his  absence,  he  placed  his  candle  on  the  floor 
and  proceeded  to  bring  them  to  light. 

The  walls,  floor  and  ceiling  of  the  room  were  com- 
posed of  small  saplings,  and  two  of  these  saplings  con- 
cealed treasures  that  were  of  more  value  to  Julian  than 
all  his  furs.  One  of  them  was  in  the  floor,  and  when 
it  had  been  lifted  out  of  its  place  by  the  edge  of  a 
hatchet,  some  of  the  young  trapper's  wealth,  which 
would  have  made  Jake  and  Tom  open  their  eyes  in 
amazement  could  they  have  seen  it,  was  disclosed  to 
view. 

It  consisted  of  a  silver-mounted  rifle,  inclosed  in  a 
strong  canvas  bag  to  protect  it  from  the  damp  and  dirt, 
a  hunting-knife,  an  ornamented  powder-horn  and  a 
fawn-skin  bullet-pouch,  both  the  latter  filled  with  am- 
munition. 

Julian  looked  at  these  articles  long  and  lovingly.  He 
had  come  by  them  honestly — they  were  the  first  valua- 


JULIAN  MEETS  A   STRAttGER.  4? 

bles  he  had  ever  owned,  and  he  had  worked  so  hard  for 
them!  He  took  the  rifle  from  its  case,  drew  it  up  to 
his  shoulder  and  glanced  along  the  clean  brown  barrel, 
as  if  drawing  a  bead  on  an  imaginary  deer's  head,  held 
it  in  a  dozen  different  positions  to  allow  the  light  to 
shine  on  the  silver  mountings,  and  finally  returned  it, 
with  all  the  accouterments,  to  its  hiding-place,  and  went 
to  look  after  his  other  treasures.  He  removed  one  of 
the  saplings  that  formed  the  ceiling,  thrust  his  arm  into 
the  opening  and  drew  out  a  small  tin  box,  which 
contained  money  to  the  amount  of  $80 — the  pro- 
ceeds of  two  winters'  work  at  trapping.  Julian  ran 
hastily  over  the  bills  to  make  sure  that  they  were  all 
there,  then  put  back  the  box,  returned  the  sapling  to  its 
place,  and  drawing  his  knife  from  his  pocket  sat  down 
to  remove  the  skins  from  the  animals  he  had  just 
captured. 

"I'm  rich!"  he  exclaimed,  looking  about  him  with  a 
smile  of  satisfaction.  "Counting  in  my  money  and 
what  my  horse,  hunting  rig  and  hunting  furs  are  worth, 
I  have  at  least  $250.  I  have  purchased  everything  I 
need,  and  some  fine,  frosty  morning,  when  Mrs.  Bowles 
calls  for  'you,  Julian,'  to  get  up  and  build  the  fire,  he 
won't  answer.  He'll  be  miles  away,  and  be  making 
quick  tracks  for  the  Rocky  Mountains.  I  only  wish  I 
was  there  now.  There's  where  I  came  from  when  I  was 
brought  to  Jack  Bowies'  house.  I  just  know  it  was, 
because  I  can  remember  of  hearing  people  talk  of  going 
over  the  mountains  to  California,  and  I  know,  too,  that 
there  were  gold  diggings  on  my  father's  farm,  or  raiicho, 
I  believe  he  called  it.  I'm  going  to  try  to  find  my 
father  when  I  get  there,  and  if  I  ever  see  him  I  shall 
know  him." 

Julian's  thoughts  ran  on  in  this  channel  while  he  was 
busy  with  his  knife,  and  in  half  an  hour  the  skins  had 
all  been  stretched,  and  the  young  trapper  was  ready  to 
return  to  the  miserable  hovel  he  called  home.  He  ex- 
tinguished his  candle,  crawled  out  of  the  cave,  and  after 
concealing  the  door  by  piling  leaves  against  it,  hurried 
down  the  bluff  and  into  the  woods,  happy  in  the  beHef 


48  JULIA  N  MOR  TIMER. 

that  no  one  was  the  wiser  for  what  he  had  done;  but  no 
sooner  had  he  disappeared  than  Jake  and  Tom  Bowles 
came  out  of  the  bushes  in  which  they  had  been  hidden, 
and  clambered  up  the  cliff  toward  Julian's  store-house. 

It  was  rapidly  growing  dark,  and  Julian,  anxious  to 
reach  the  cabin  before  his  absence  was  discovered,  broke 
into  a  rapid  run,  which  he  never  slackened  until  he 
reached  the  road  leading  from  The  Corners  to  the  clear- 
ing. There  he  encountered  a  stranger,  who,  as  he  came 
out  of  the  bushes,  accosted  him  with: 

"  Hold  on  a  minute,  my  lad.  I  believe  I  am  a  little 
out  of  my  reckoning,  and  perhaps  you  can  set  me 
right." 

Julian  stopped  and  looked  at  the  man.  He  could  not 
get  so  much  as  even  a  glimpse  of  his  face,  for  the  broad 
felt  hat  he  wore  was  pulled  down  over  his  forehead,  and 
his  heavy  muffler  was  drawn  up  so  high  that  nothing 
but  his  eyes  could  be  seen;  but  the  boy  at  once  put  him 
down  as  a  gentleman,  for  he  was  dressed  in  broadcloth, 
and  wore  fine  boots  and  fur  gloves.  Julian  looked  at 
his  neat  dress,  and  then  at  his  own  tattered  garments, 
and  drew  his  coat  about  him  and  folded  his  arms  over  it 
to  hide  it  from  the  stranger's  gaze. 

"Is  there  a  hotel  about  here?"  continued  the  gentle- 
man, approaching  the  place  where  Julian  was  standing. 

"No,  sir,"  was  the  reply;  "none  nearer  than  The 
Corners,  and  that's  ten  miles  away." 

"  Is  there  no  dwelling-house  near?" 

"There  is  a  shanty  about  a  mile  distant  belonging  to 
Jack  Bowles,  but  I  wouldn't  advise  you  to  go  there." 

"  Then  I  am  on  the  right  road  after  all,"  said  the 
stranger,  with  a  sigh  of  relief.  "Jack  Bowles!  He's 
just  the  man  I  want  to  see.  I  have  some  important 
business  with  him.  He  can  accommodate  me  with  a 
bed  and  supper,  can  he  not?" 

"He  can  give  you  some  corn  bread  and  venison,  but 
as  for  a  bed,  that's  a  thing  he  doesn't  keep  in  his  house. 
If  you  happen  to  have  half  a  dollar  in  your  pocket, 
however,  he  will  stow  you  away  somewhere.  Jack  will 
do  almost  anything  for  half  a  dollar.  Why,  what's  the 
matter,  sir?" 


/  ULIA  N  MEL  TS  A   57  'RA  NGER.  49 

It  was  no  wonder  that  Julian  asked  this  question,  for 
the  gentleman,  who  had  now  advanced  quite  near  to 
him,  took  just  one  glance  at  his  face,  and  started  back 
as  if  he  had  seen  some  frightful  apparition.  He  pushed 
his  hat  hack  from  his  forehead,  pulled  his  muffler  down 
from  his  face,  and  stared  at  Julian  as  if  he  meant  to 
look  him  through.  The  boy  was  astonished  at  his  be- 
havior, and  he  would  have  been  still  more  astonished  if 
he  had  been  able  to  look  far  enough  into  the  future  to 
see  all  that  was  to  grow  out  of  this  meeting. 

"Boy!"  exclaimed  the  gentleman,  in  a  voice  which 
his  agitation  rendered  almost  indistinct,  "  who  are  you? 
What's  your  name  ?" 

"Julian  Mortimer,"  replied  our  hero. 

'•'Julian!  Julian  Mortimer!"  repeated  the  man,  as  if 
he  could  scarcely  believe  his  ears.  "  It  cannot  be  pos- 
sible. Why,  boy,  you're  just — ahem!  I  mean — what  a 
striking  resemblance." 

The  stranger  spoke  these  last  words  hurriedly,  and 
then,  as  if  recollecting  himself,  hastily  pulled  his  hat 
down  over  his  forehead  again,  and  once  more  concealed 
his  face  with  his  muffler — all  except  his  eyes,  which  he 
kept  fastened  upon  Julian. 

"  No  doubt  you  think  I  act  very  strangely,"  he  con- 
tinued, after  a  moment's  pause,  "and  perhaps  I  do,  but 
the  truth  of  the  matter  is,  you  look  so  much  like  a 
young  friend  of  mine — a  relative,  in  fact — that  for  a 
moment  I  was  almost  sure  you  were  he.  But,  of  course, 
you  can't  be,  for  he  is  dead — been  dead  eight  years.  If 
you  are  ready  we  will  go  on." 

Julian  was  forced  to  be  contented  with  this  explana- 
tion, but  he  was  not  quite  satisfied  Avith  it.  It  was 
made  in  a  bungling,  hesitating  manner,  as  if  the  man 
were  thinking  about  one  thing  and  talking  about  an- 
other. More  than  that,  the  excitement  he  had  exhib- 
ited on  the  first  meeting  with  Julian  seemed  to  increase 
the  longer  he  looked  at  him;  and  now  and  then  he 
rubbed  his  gloved  hands  together  as  if  he  were  meditat- 
ing upon  something  that  afforded  him  infinite  pleasure. 
He  continued  to  watch  the  boy  out  of  the  corner  of  his 
eye,  and  finally  inquired: 


50  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

"Is  this  man  Bowles,  of  whom  you  spoke,  your 
father?" 

"  No,  sir/'  replied  Joe,  emphatically.  "  I  live  with 
him,  but  he  is  no  relative  of  mine.  My  father,  as  I  re- 
member him,  was  a  different  sort  of  man  altogether." 

"Eh!"  ejaculated  the  stranger,  with  a  start.  "As 
you  remember  him?  Ah!  he  is  dead,  then?" 

"Not  that  I  know  of,  sir.  He  was  alive  and  well 
the  last  time  I  saw  him.  Fll  see  him  again  in  a  few 
weeks." 

"Where  is  he?" 

"  Out  West.  He  owns  a  rancho  near  the  mountains 
with  a  gold  mine  on  it." 

' '  Then  why  are  you  here?" 

''Because  I  can't  help  myself.  I  didn't  come  here  of 
my  own  free  will,  but  was  brought  by  one  who  will  have 
good  cause  to  remember  me  if  I  meet  him  again  when 
I  become  a  man." 

"  Do  you  think  you  would  know  him  if  you  should 
see  him  again  ?"  asked  the  stranger,  looking  sharply  at 
Julian,  and  putting  his  hat  lower  over  his  eyes. 

"  I  am  quite  sure  I  should.  He  stole  me  away  from 
my  home  and  brought  me  here;  but  why  he  did  it  I 
can't  tell.  I  don't  intend  to  stay  any  longer,  if  it  would 
do  him  any  good  to  know  it.  I've  got  a  good  horse  and 
rifle,  and  plenty  of  money,  and  I  am  going  to  leave  here 
in  a  few  days  and  go  back  to  the  mountains  where 
I  belong,  and  I  shall  not  ask  Jack  Bowies'  consent, 
either." 

"Do  you  think  he  would  oppose  it?" 

"I  know  he  would.  He  would  beat  me  half  to  death, 
or  his  wife  would,  and  lock  me  up  in  the  smoke-house 
till  I  promised  never  to  think  of  such  a  thing  again. 
I'm  going  to  run  away,  and  by  the  time  he  misses  me  I 
shall  be  a  long  distance  out  of  his  reach. " 

The  man  listened  attentively  to  all  Julian  had  to  say, 
and  when  the  latter  ceased  speaking  he  placed  his 
hands  behind  his  back,  fastened  his  eyes  on  the  ground, 
and  walked  along  as  if  he  were  in  a  brown  study.  He 
did  not  look  up  until  they  reached  the  door  of  the  cabin 


JULIAN  MEETS  A  STRANGER.  51 

wnerc  Jack  Bowles,  who  had  just  finished  his  supper, 
stood  smoking  his  cob  pipe. 

"Wai,  who  have  ye  got  thar?"  was  his  surly  greet- 
ing. 

"A  gentleman  who  wishes  to  find  a  place  to  stay  all 
night/'  replied  Julian. 

"Why  don't  he  toddle  on  and  find  it, then? "growled 
Jack.  "  I  ain't  a  hinderin'  him,  be  I?  He  can't  stop 
here.  I  don't  keep  a  hotel  to  take  in  every  Tom,  Dick 
and  Harry  that  conies  along.  Wai,  I  be  dog-gone!" 

Jack  suddenly  took  his  pipe  from  his  mouth,  and 
stepping  hastily  up  to  the  stranger,  bent  forward  and 
peered  into  his  face.  Then  something  that  was  in- 
tended for  a  smile  of  recognition  overspread  his  own 
countenance,  and  extending  his  hand  with  as  cordial  an 
air  as  he  could  assume,  he  continued: 

"I  allowed  I  had  seed  ye  somewhar  afore,  Mr. — eh?" 

Jack  paused  before  the  name  he  had  been  about  to 
pronounce  escaped  his  lips,  interrupted  by  a  hasty 
gesture  from  the  stranger,  who  glanced  toward  Julian 
and  raised  his  hand  warningly. 

"You  are  mistaken,  my  friend,"  said  he,  blandly. 
"  You  have  never  seen  me  before,  but  I  hope  the  fact 
that  I  am  a  stranger  to  you  will  not  prevent  you  from 
extending  your  hospitality  to  me  for  the  night." 

Jack  stared,  took  a  few  long,  deliberate  pulls  at  his 
pipe,  looked  first  at  the  eaves  of  the  cabin,  then  down 
at  the  ground,  and  finally  turned  to  Julian  for  an  expla- 
nation. 

"What's  he  try  in'  to  get  through  hisself?"  he  asked. 

"  He  wants  something  to  eat  and  a  bed  to  sleep  in," 
replied  the  boy. 

"Oh!  Why  didn't  he  say  so,  then?  Wai,  stranger, 
I  reckon  we  can  hang  ye  up  somewhar,"  added  Jack, 
who  had  seen  and  comprehended  the  warning  gesture; 
"  although,  as  I  told  ye  afore,  we  don't  make  a  business 
of  takin'  in  every  tramp  that  comes  along.  Ye  see,  in  a 
new  country  like  this  it  ain't  safe.  Ole  woman,  make 
up  another  batch  of  them  corn-dodgers  an'  fry  a  slice  or 
two  of  that  bar's  meat.  Julian,  what  be  ye  a  standin' 


52  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

thar  gapin*  at?  Cl'ar  yerself.  Come  in,  stranger — 
come  in  an'  set  down." 

Julian  moved  around  the  corner  of  the  cabin  and  re- 
mained out  of  sight  until  he  heard  Mrs.  Bowles  laying 
the  table  for  the  guest,  and  then  he  also  entered. 

It  was  not  a  very  sociable  party  he  found  in  the  house. 
Mrs.  Bowles  was  moving  about  preparing  the  corn- 
dodgers and  bear  meat;  the  visitor,  who  had  removed  his 
overcoat  and  muffler,  was  comfortably  seated  on  a  nail- 
keg  in  a  dark  corner  of  the  room,  and  Jack  Bowles  sat 
in  front  of  the  fire,  his  elbows  resting  on  his  knees  and 
his  hat  pulled  down  over  his  eyes,  which  were  slowly 
moving  over  the  stranger's  person  and  scrutinizing  his 
dress  and  ornaments. 

Julian  noticed  that  his  gaze  rested  long  on  the  watch 
chain  that  hung  across  the  stranger's  vest,  and  on  the 
diamond  ring  that  glittered  on  his  finger,  and  the  ex- 
pression he  saw  on  Jack's  face  alarmed  him  and  made 
him  wish  most  sincerely  that  he  had  never  conducted 
the  gentleman  to  the  cabin. 

No  one  spoke  until  supper  was  ready,  and  then  the 
guest  was  invited  to  "  draw  up  and  pitch  in."  Julian 
tried  to  obtain  a  glimpse  of  his  features  as  he  came  out 
of  his  dark  corner,  but  the  man,  as  if  guessing  his  in- 
tention, kept  his  head  turned  away  from  him  and  took 
his  seat  at  the  table  with  his  back  to  the  fire,  so  that  his 
face  still  remained  in  the  shadow. 

While  he  was  busy  with  his  corn-dodgers  and  bear 
meat,  Jake  and  Tom  came  in.  They  glanced  curiously 
at  the  guest,  and  Tom  seated  himself  beside  the  fire  op- 
posite Julian,  whom  he  regarded  with  a  triumphant 
smile,  while  Jake  went  to  one  of  the  beds  that  stood  in 
the  room  and  carefully  hid  something  under  the  pillows. 
Julian  afterward  recalled  the  movements  of  these  two 
worthies,  and  wondered  why  his  suspicions  had  not  been 
aroused. 

When  the  stranger  had  satisfied  his  appetite,  the  three 
boys,  at  a  sign  from  Mrs.  Bowles,  sat  down  and  made 
a  very  light  meal  of  that  which  was  left,  and  no  sooner 
had  they  arisen  from  the  table  thar  they  received  a 


JULIAN  MEETS  A  STRANGER.  53 

second  signal  from  Mr.  Bowles,  who  pointed  with  his 
thumb  over  his  shoulder  toward  that  part  of  the  room 
in  which  the  beds  were  situated. 

The  boys  all  obeyed  the  order,  but  one  of  them,  at 
least,  had  no  intention  of  going  to  sleep.  It  was  Julian, 
who,  as  he  slowly  mounted  the  ladder  that  led  to  the 
loft,  told  himself  that  he  was  in  some  way  connected 
with  the  stranger's  visit  to  the  cabin,  and  that  he  would 
learn  something  about  the  matter  before  morning,  if 
there  was  any  way  for  him  to  accomplish  his  object. 
He  stretched  himself  upon  his  hard  bed,  and  drawing 
one  of  the  coats  over  his  shoulders,  waited  impatiently 
to  see  what  was  going  to  happen. 

For  half  an  hour  all  was  still;  then  some  one  began 
to  move  softly  about  the  cabin,  a  step  was  heard  on  the 
ladder,  and  a  light  flashed  upon  the  rafters  over  Julian's 
head. 

Presently  a  hand  grasping  a  tallow  dip  appeared 
above  the  edge  of  the  loft,  closely  followed  by  the  griz- 
zly head  and  broad  shoulders  of  Jack  Bowles,  who 
stopped  when  he  reached  the  top  of  the  ladder  and 
gazed  at  our  hero  long  and  earnestly. 

Julian  was  wide  awake,  and  through  his  half-closed 
eyelids  could  see  every  move  Jack  made,  but  the  latter, 
believing  him  to  be  fast  asleep,  descended  the  ladder 
and  joined  his  guest. 

"  My  suspicions  are  confirmed/'  soliloquized  Julian. 
"'They  intend  to  talk  upon  some  subject  that  they 
don't  want  me  to  know  anything  about.  I  am  going  to 
learn  something  now.  Perhaps  I  shall  find  out  who  I 
am  and  where  my  father  is,  and  why  I  was  brought 
here.  What  if  this  man  should  prove  to  be  my  father, 
who,  for  reasons  of  his  own,  does  not  wish  to  reveal 
himself  to  me  ?  " 

Julian,  highly  excited  over  this  thought,  rolled  noise- 
lessly off  the  bed  upon  the  floor,  crept  to  the  edge  of 
the  loft,  and  looked  over  into  the  room  below.  Jack 
had  just  placed  his  candle  on  the  table,  and  was  ap- 
proaching his  guest  with  outstretched  hand. 

"Now,  then,  Mr.  Mortimer,"  said  he,  "the  boy   is 


54  JULIAN  MOR  TIMER. 

out  of  the  way  fur  the  night,  an'  thar's  no  use  in  settin' 
back  thai*  away  from  the  fire.  Draw  up  an'  give  us  a 
shake." 

"Mr.  Mortimer!"  was  Julian's  mental  ejaculation. 

His  heart  seemed  to  stop  beating.  He  opened  his  eyes 
to  their  widest  extent  and  kept  them  fastened  upon  the 
stranger,  who  pulled  his  nail-keg  in  front  of  the  fire 
and  seated  himself  upon  it. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE   FLIGHT. 

HEN  THE  gentleman  came  out  of  his  dark 
corner,  and  the  light  of  the  candle  fell  upon 
his  features,  Julian  took  a  good  look  at  him, 
and  an  expression  of  great  disappointment 
settled  on  his  face. 

"Whoever  he  is,  he  is  not  my  father,"  said  he,  to  him- 
self, "for  my  father  had  gray  hair.  This  man  is  a 
stranger,  and  as  it  would  be  a  mean  piece  of  business  in 
me  to  stay  here  and  listen  to  his  conversation  I  will 
crawl  back  to  my  pile  of  husks  and  go  to  sleep." 

Acting  upon  this  resolution  Julian  began  a  slow  and 
cautious  retreat;  but  he  had  not  gone  far  when  a  thought 
struck  him,  and  he  crept  back  to  the  edge  of  the  loft  and 
looked  over  into  the  room  again. 

"Jack  called  him  Mr.  Mortimer,"  soliloquized  the 
boy,  "and  I  should  like  to  know  who  and  what  he  is. 
The  manner  in  which  he  acted  when  I  met  him  in  the 
woods  makes  me  believe  that  he  has  seen  me  before,  and 
that  he  knows  something  about  me  that  he  wishes  to 
keep  hidden  from  me.  I  have  a  good  deal  at  stake  and 
it  will  do  no  harm  to  listen  a  while  anyhow." 

It  was  a  very  handsome  face  that  Julian's  eyes  rested 
upon,  and  one  that  he  did  not  think  he  should  ever  for- 
get. Although  the  man's  language  indicated  that  he 
was  an  American,  his  features  had  a  decided  Spanish 
cast.  His  face  was  dark  and  wore  a  haughty  expression, 
his  hair  was  long  and  waving,  and  like  his  mustache  and 
goatee,  was  as  black  as  midnight.  Julian  looked  at  him 
attentively,  and  was  surprised  to  see  that  he  shook 
hands  with  Mr.  Bowles  and  his  wife,  as  if  they  were  old 
acquaintances  whom  he  was  glad  to  meet  once  more. 

"It's  a  long  time  since  I've  seed  ye,  Mr.  Mortimer, 


50  JULIAN  MOK  TIMER. 

but  I  allowed  I  knowed  ye  as  soon  as  I  clapped  my  eyes 
onto  ye/'  said  Jack,  drawing  his  nail-keg  a  little  closer 
to  the  side  of  his  guest. 

"  And  you  came  very  near  making  a  mess  of  it,  too," 
replied  the  latter,  with  some  impatience  in  his  tones. 
"  I  believe  that  boy  suspects  me — he  looked  at  me  as  if 
he  did — and  I  would  not  have  him  know  who  I  am  for 
the  world.  You're  sure  he  is  asleep?" 

"  Sartin,  'cause  I  went  up  to  look.  We've  kept  him 
safe  an'  sound  fur  ye,  'cordin'  to  orders,  hain't  we?" 

"  An'  now  you  have  come  to  take  him  away  from  us — 
I  jest  know  ye  have,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Bowles,  raising 
the  corner  of  her  tattered  apron  to  her  left  eye.  "I 
don't  know  how  I  can  let  him  go,  'cause  my  heart's 
awfully  sot  onto  that  poor,  motherless  boy." 

"  We've  done  our  level  best  by  him,'  chimed  in  Jack. 
"  Ye  told  us  when  ye  brought  him  here  that  he  was  a 
gentleman,  an'  a  gentleman's  son,  an'  we've  treated  him 
like  one." 

"  When  lie  brought  me  here,"  repeated  Julian,  to  him- 
self;  and  it  was  only  by  a  great  exercise  of  will  that  he 
refrained  from  speaking  the  words  aloud. 

He  became  highly  excited  at  once.  Mr.  Mortimer 
was  the  one  who  had  stolen  him  away  from  his  home 
and  delivered  him  up  to  the  tender  mercies  of  Jack 
Bowles  and  his  wife — the  very  man  of  all  others  he  most 
wished  to  see.  He  had  been  a  long  time  coming,  almost 
eight  years,  and  now  that  he  had  arrived,  Julian  found 
that  he  was  destined  to  become  better  acquainted  with 
him  than  he  cared  to  be.  He  watched  the  guest  more 
closely  than  ever,  carefully  scrutinizing  his  features  in 
order  to  fix  them  in  his  memory.  He  hoped  to  meet 
him  some  day  under  different  circumstances. 

"  He  haint  never  had  no  work  to  do,  an'  we  never 
struck  him  a  lick  in  our  lives,"  continued  Jack.  "  We've 
treated  him  hetter'u  our  own  boys.  He's  got  a  good 
hcss  of  his  own,  an'  I've  been  a  feedin'  it  on  ten  my  corn 
ever  since  he  owned  it,  an'  never  axed  him  even  to  bring 
in  an  armful  of  wood  to  pay  for  it.  An'  my  boys  do  say 
that  he's  got  a  heap  of  money  laid  up  somewhars.  If  ye 


THE  FLIGHT.  57 

have  come  to  take  him  away  I  reckon  ye'll  do  the  hand- 
some thing  by  us." 

"My  friends,"  interrupted  the  guest,  as  soon  as  he 
saw  a  chance  to  speak,  "  I  know  all  about  Julian,  for  I 
have  talked  with  him.  I  know  what  he  has  got  and 
what  he  intends  to  do.  Have  you  ever  told  him  anything 
about  his  parentage?" 

"  Nary  word,"  replied  Jack. 

"  Then  I  wonder  how  it  is  that  he  knows  so  much 
about  it.  He  knows  that  his  home  is  near  the  moun- 
tains; that  he  was  stolen  away  from  it,  and  that  he  has  a 
father  there.  More  than  that  he  intends  to  go  back 
there  very  soon,  and  is  laying  his  plan?  to  run  away 
from  you." 

"  Wai,  I  never  heered  the  beat  in  all  my  born  days!" 
exclaimed  Mrs.  Bowles,  involuntarily  extending  her 
hand  toward  the  rawhide  which  hung  on  the  nail  behind 
the  door.  "I'll  give  him  the  best  kind  of  a  whoppin'in 

the  mornin'.  I'll  beat  him  half  to What  should 

the  poor,  dear  boy  want  to  run  away  from  his  best  friends 
fur?" 

"The  leetle  brat — the  ongrateful  rascal!"  said  Mr. 
Bowles.  "That's  why  he's  bought  that  ar  hoss;  an' 
that's  why  he's  been  a  huntin'  an'  trappin'  so  steady — to 
earn  money  to  run  away  from  us,  is  it?  I'll  larn  him." 

And  Jack  turned  around  on  his  nail-keg  and  looked 
so  savagely  toward  the  loft,  where  Julian  was  supposed 
to  be  slumbering,  that  the  eavesdropper  was  greatly 
alarmed,  and  crouched  closer  to  the  floor  and  trembled 
in  every  limb,  as  if  he  already  felt  the  stinging  blows  of 
the  raw-hide. 

"It  seems  that  my  visit  was  most  opportune,"  con- 
tinued the  stranger.  "  If  I  had  arrived  a  day  or  two 
later  I  might  not  have  found  Julian  here.  He  would 
probably  have  been  on  his  way  to  the  mountains;  and  if 
he  had  by  any  accident  succeeded  in  finding  his  old 
home,  all  my  plans,  which  1  have  spent  long  years  in 
maturing,  would  have  been  ruined.  I  came  here  to 
remove  him  from  your  care.  It  appears  that  certain 
persons,  who  are  very  much  interested  in  him,  and  who 


58  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

have  been  searching  for  him  high  and  low  ever  since  I 
brought  him  here,  have  by  some  means  discovered  his 
hiding-place,  and  it  is  necessary  that  I  should  remove 
him  farther  out  of  their  reach.  I  shall  take  him  to 
South  America." 

"  What's  that?    Is  it  fur  from  here ?"  asked  Jack. 

"It  is  a  long  distance.  I  came  down  the  river  from 
St.  Joseph  in  a  flatboat,"  added  the  visitor.  "  I  found 
that  the  captain  is  a  man  who  will  do  anything  for 
money,  and  I  have  arranged  with  him  to  carry  us  to 
•New  Orleans.  It  will  take  us  a  long  time  to  accomplish 
the  journey,  but  we  cannot  be  as  easily  followed  as  we 
could  if  we  went  by  steamer.  If  you  will  accompany 
me  I  will  pay  you  well  for  your  services.  I  can  say  that 
the  boy  is  a  lunatic  and  that  you  are  his  keeper." 

"'Xough  said!"  exclaimed  Jack.  "I'm  jest  the  man 
to  watch  him." 

"  But  you  must  not  watch  him  too  closely,"  said  Mr. 
Mortimer  earnestly.  "If  he  should  accidentally  fall 
overboard  during  the  journey  it  would  not  make  any 
difference  in  your  pay." 

"In  course  not,"  replied  Jack,  with  a  meaning  glitter 
in  his  eye.  "If  he  gets  one  of  them  ar'  crazy  spells 
onto  him  some  dark  night  an'  jumps  into  the  river, 
why — then " 

"Why  then  you  ought  to  be  handsomely  rewarded 
for  your  faithful  services  while  in  my  employ,  and  dis- 
charged." 

"Perzactly.     Whar  is  this  yere  flatboat  now?" 

"  I  left  her  about  twenty  miles  up  the  river.  I  told 
the  captain  to  lay  up  for  a  few  hours  until  I  could  have 
time  to  come  down  here  and  transact  my  business  with 
you.  She  will  be  along  about  noon  to-morrow.  Have 
everything  ready  so  that  we  can  hail  her,  and  step  on 
board  without  an  instant's  delay." 

"  I  don't  fur  the  life  o'  me  see  how  I  can  let  him  go — 
my  heart  is  so  sot  onto  him,"  sighed  Mrs.  Bowles,  once 
more  raising  her  apron  to  her  eyes.  "He  do  save  me  a 
heap  o'  steps,  an'  he's  a  monstrous  good  hand  to  cut 
wood  an'  build  fires  o'  frosty  mornin's." 


THE  FLIGHT.  59 

"  But  he  hain't  never  had  it  to  do,"  interrupted  Jack, 
who,  for  reasons  of  his  own,  thought  it  best  to  impress 
upon  the  mind  of  his  guest  that  Julian's  life  under  his 
roof  had  been  one  continual  round  of  ease  and  enjoy- 
ment. "  We  allers  makes  our  own  boys  roll  out  o'  morn- 
in's  and  cut  wood,  an'  Julian  can  lay  in  his  comfortable 
bed,  as  snug  as  a  bug  in  a  rug,  an'  snooze  as  long  as  he 
pleases.  The  reason  we've  tuk  sich  good  care  of  him  is, 
'cause  we  thought  ye  sot  store  by  him.  Ye're  some  kin 
to  him,  I  reckon.  Ye're  names  is  alike." 

"That  is  a  matter  that  does  not  interest  you,"  an- 
swered the  guest  sharply.  "I  pay  you  to  work  for  me, 
and  not  to  ask  questions." 

"I  didn't  mean  no  offense.  But  when  I  see  a  man 
like  yerself  totin'  a  boy  about  the  country,  an'  leavin' 
him  hid  in  a  place  like  this  fur  eight  year,  an'  then 
huntin'  him  up  agin,  an  runnin'  him  off  to  some  other 
place,  an'  hear  ye  say  that  if  he  falls  into  the  river  an' 
gets  drownded  ye  won't  be  no  ways  sorry  fur  it,  I  think 
there's  something  up,  don't  I?  Ye  don't  do  that  fur 
nothing;  an'  since  the  boy  ain't  ole  enough  to  be  a 
standin'  atween  ye  an'  a  woman,  I  naterally  conclude 
that  he  stands  atween  ye  an'  money.  Howsomever,  it 
hain't  no  consarn  of  mine.  I  know  which  side  of  my 
corn-dodger's  got  the  lasses  onto  it." 

" Pap!  I  say  pap!"  suddenly  cried  a  voice  from  one  of 
the  beds.  "  Ye  think  yer  sharp,  ye  an  that  feller  do, 
but  ye  ain't  so  sharp  as  ye  might  be." 

"  Hush  yer  noise,  boy,  an'  speak  when  ye're  spoken 
to,"  exclaimed  Jack  angrily.  "Ye  needn't  be  no  ways 
oneasy,  Mr.  Mortimer,"  he  added,  seeing  that  his  guest 
arose  hastily  to  his  feet  and  appeared  to  be  greatly  ex- 
cited to  know  that  their  conversation  had  been  over- 
heard. "  We're  all  true  blue  here,  an'  my  boys  has  too 
much  good  sense  to  blab  what  they  hears — leastwise 
while  they  are  paid  to  keep  their  mouths  shet.  Ye, 
Jake,  roll  over  an.'  go  to  sleep." 

"All  right,  pap,"  said  Jake,  obeying  the  first  part  of 
the  order.  "  If  ye  wake  up  in  the  inornin'  an'  find  that 
yer  bird  has  flew  ye  needn't  blame  me,  'cause  I  told  ye. "' 


60  JULIAN  MOR  TIMER. 

"Eh?"  roared  Jack,  jumping  up  in  great  amaze- 
ment. 

"0,  he  won't  be  here,  an*  ye  can  bet  yer  bottom  dol- 
lar on  it.  He's  heered  every  blessed  word  ye  said." 

"Who?    Julian?"  gasped  the  visitor. 

"Sartin.  I  seed  his  head  a  stickin'  over  the  hull  time 
ye  was  a  talkin'." 

Had  a  bomb-shell  burst  in  the  room  the  two  men 
could  not  have  been  more  astonished.  They  stood  mo- 
tionless for  a  moment,  and  then,  with  a  muttered  im- 
precation, Jack  bounded  across  the  floor  and  went 
swiftly  up  the  ladder  that  led  to  the  loft,  closely  fol- 
lowed by  his  guest,  whose  face  was  as  pale  as  death, 
while  Mrs.  Bowles  snatched  the  rawhide  from  its  nail, 
and  rolling  up  her  sleeves  took  her  stand  in  front  of  the 
fire-place,  prepared  for  any  emergency. 

Jack  sprung  into  the  loft  when  he  reached  the  top  of 
the  ladder  and  ran  straight  to  the  bed,  expecting  to  lay 
his  hands  upon  the  eavesdropper;  but  he  was  not  there. 
With  eager  haste  he  threw  aside  the  tattered  coats  and 
blankets,  and  even  kicked  the  corn-husks  about,  but  no 
Julian  was  hidden  among  them.  Nor  was  he  anywhere 
in  the  loft;  for  there  was  no  furniture  there,  and  conse- 
quently no  place  of  concealment  large  enough  to  shelter 
a  squirrel. 

"  Dog-gone  ! "  roared  Jack,  stamping  about  so  furi- 
ously that  the  boards  which  formed  the  floor  of  the  loft 
creaked  and  bent,  and  seemed  on  the  point  of  breaking 
beneath  his  weigh*  and  letting  him  through  into  the 
room  below." 

"  He's  gone,  as  sure  as  ye're  a  foot  high." 

"  He  probably  escaped  through  this  hole,"  said  Mr. 
Mortimer,  running  to  the  gable-end  of  the  cabin  where 
the  boards  had  fallen  off.  "It  isn't  more  than  ten  feet 
to  the  ground,  and  he  could  easily  drop  down  without 
injuring  himself.  He  must  be  brought  back  at  any 
cost." 

"In  course  he  must,  an'  I  know  how  to  do  it.  I've 
got  a  hound  that'll  trail  him.  Ole  woman,  stick  yer 
head  outer  that  door  an'  holler  for  Nero." 


THE  FLIGHT.  61 

While  Mrs.  Bowles  was  shouting  out  the  hound's 
name,  awaking  the  echoes  far  and  near  with  her  shrill 
voice,  Jake  and  Tom  were  pulling  on  their  clothes  with 
all  possible  haste. 

"  Here's  a  fine  chance  for  a  spec/'  said  the  former, 
Blyly  pulling  a  small  tin  box  from  under  his  pillow  and 
putting  it  carefully  into  his  pocket.  "  Mebbe  that 
feller  in  the  store  clothes  will  give  something  to  have 
Julian  brought  back.  The  ole  man'll  never  ketch  him 
'cause  he  can't  run  fast  enough;  an'  Julian's  too  sharp 
to  give  a  hound  a  chance  to  foller  him.  We  know  jest 
the  place  he'll  make  tracks  fur,  an'  if  we  go  thar  we 
can  gobble  him." 

"  Ye  Jake!"  cried  Mr.  Bowles,  hurrying  down  the 
ladder,  "  when  I  get  time,  I'm  a  goin3  to  give  ye  the 
best  wallopin'  ye  ever  heern  tell  on." 

"  Ye  needn't  mind,"  replied  Jake,  in  great  alarm. 

"But  I  will  mind,  I  tell  ye;  an'  I  hain't  agoin'  to 
forget  it,  nuther." 

"I  hain't  been  a  doin'  of  nothing,  pap." 

"  That's  jest  what's  the  matter.  I'm  goin'  to  lick  ye 
fur  not  doin'  something — fur  not  tellin'  me  that  ye  seed 
Julian  a  listenin'.  Here  he  comes!  Here's  the  fellei 
that'll  bring  the  runaway  back  to  us  in  less'n  five 
minutes." 

At  this  moment  the  door  was  dashed  violently  open 
and  in  bounded  Nero,  who  seemed  to  know  that  there 
was  work  for  him  to  do,  and  was  impatient  to 
begin  it.  He  was  a  magnificent  brute — so  large  that 
when  he  sprang  up  and  placed  his  paws  upon  his 
master's  shoulders  his  head  was  on  a  level  with  Jack's. 
He  showed  a  frightful  array  of  teeth  and  growled 
threateningly  at  the  visitor,  who  constantly  shifted  his 
position  in  order  to  keep  Jack's  burly  form  between 
himself  and  the  savage  beast. 

"  Thar's  the  dog  fur  ye,  Mr.  Mortimer,"  said  Bowles, 
looking  proudly  at  his  favorite.  "  He'll  ketch  any 
thing  ye  tell  him  toj  from  a  bar  down  to  a  chicken. 
Hand  me  that  rope,  ole  woman.  I'll  have  to  hold  him 
in  the  leash,  or  he  won't  leave  enough  of  Julian  to  make 


62  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

it  wuth  while  to  take  that  trip  down  the  river.  Now, 
then,  hunt  'em  up,  ye  rascal!" 

Having  made  one  end  of  the  rope  fast  to  the  hound's 
collar,  Mr.  Bowles  wrapped  the  other  about  iiis  hand 
and.  arm,  snatched  a  blazing  fire-brand  from  the  hearth, 
and  hurried  out  of  the  door  and  around  the  house,  to 
examine  the  ground  there,  and  ascertain  if  Julian  had 
really  escaped  from  the  opening  in  the  gable-end.  The 
hound  struck  the  scent  at  once,  and  uttering  a  loud  bay 
dashed  off  into  the  darkness,  dragging  the  clumsy  Jack 
after  him. 

"  Now's  your  time,"  whispered  Tom,  when  the  yelp- 
ing of  the  dog  and  the  encouraging  yells  of  his  master 
began  to  grow  fainter  in  the  distance;  "  speak  to  him." 

"I  say!"  exclaimed  Jake,  addressing  himself  to  Mr. 
Mortimer,  who  was  pacing  nervously  up  and  down  the 
floor;  "pap '11  never  ketch  him,  but  we  can,  'cause  we 
know  whar  to  look  fur  him." 

"  Then  why  don't  you  doit?"  demanded  the  guest, 
angrily.  "  I  will  give  you  $10  apiece  if  you  will  bring 
him  back  to  me." 

"  Wai,  that's  business.  We  were  jest  waitin'  to  hear 
ye  say  something  of  that  kind.  Come  on,  Tom." 

The  two  boys  rushed  out  of  the  house,  and  running 
swiftly  along  the  path  that  led  by  the  corn-cribs,  wvre 
soon  out  of  sight. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

CHASED    BY   A    BLOOD-IIOtHSTD. 

ULIAN  did  not  remain  long  enough  in  his 
concealment  to  overhear  all  the  conversation 
we  have  recorded,  for  an  action  he  witnessed 
on  the  part  of  Jake  Bowles,  shortly  after  that 
worthy  got  into  bed,  turned  his  thoughts  from  the 
stranger,  and  his  plans  into  another  channel.  He  saw 
Jake  thrust  his  arm  under  his  pillow  and  draw  out  a  small 
tin  box,  which  he  opened,  and  after  looking  over  his 
shoulder  to  make  sure  that  his  father  and  mother  were 
too  much  engaged  with  their  visitor  to  pay  any  atten- 
tion to  himself,  he  drew  out  of  it  a  roll  of  bills.  He 
ran  his  fingers  over  them  caressingly,  held  them  above 
his  head  to  allow  the  firelight  to  shine  upon  them,  and 
exhibited  in  various  other  ways  the  delight  he  ex- 
perienced in  having  them  in  his  possession;  after  which 
he  returned  them  to  the  box,  replaced  it  under  his 
pillow,  and  settling  himself  comfortably  between  the 
blankets,  threw  his  arm  over  his  head,  and  as  Julian 
thought,  prepared  to  go  to  sleep.  But  Jake  did  not 
intend  to  do  anything  of  the  kind,  for  he  saw  the 
top  of  the  eavesdropper's  head  over  the  edge  of  the 
loft. 

"  That's  my  box,"  thought  our  hero,  his  cheek  grow- 
ing suddenly  pale,  and  his  heart  beating  against  his  ribs 
with  a  noise  that  frightened  him.  "I've  been  robbed." 
The  knowledge  of  this  disagreeable  fact  came  upon 
him  with  a  force  so  stunning  and  bewildering,  that  for 
a  few  seconds  he  lay  as  motionless  upon  the  floor  of  the 
loft  as  if  he  had  been  stricken  down  by  some  powerful 
hand.  His  secret  was  discovered  after  all  his  pains, 
and  by  the  very  ones  from  whose  knowledge  he  had 
wished  most  to  keep  it  hidden. 


64  JULIAN"  MORTIMER. 

"My  horse  went  first/''  thought  Julian,  striving  hard 
to  choke  hack  the  tears  that  arose  to  his  eyes,  ' '  and 
now  everything  else  is  gone;  for,  of  course,  if  they 
found  the  box  they  must  have  found  my  furs  and  my 
rifle  also.  And  I  was  always  so  careful  never  to  go  near 
my  store-house  until  I  had  satisfied  myself  that  there 
was  no  one  in  sight.  I  shan't  give  up  those  things,  and 
that's  all  about  it.  Because  I  have  never  resisted  their 
tyranny,  Jack  and  his  boys  think  I  am  a  coward,  but 
now  I  will  show  them  what  I  am  made  of." 

Very  slowly  and  cautiously  Julian  drew  back  from 
the  edge  of  the  loft,  and  retreated  toward  the  opening 
in  the  gable-end  of  the  cabin.  So  stealthy  was  he  in 
his  movements  that  even  the  wakeful  Jake  did  not  hear 
him  as  he  crept  across  the  floor,  swung  himself  down 
from  the  gable-end  and  dropped  to  the  ground. 

The  instant  he  landed  on  his  feet  lie  darted  off  at 
the  top  of  his  speed,  directing  his  steps  toward  the 
corn-cribs. 

"  That  much  is  done/'  panted  Julian,  "but  the  work 
is  yet  to  come.  It  will  be  no  trouble  to  saddle  my 
horse  and  secure  my  rifle  and  furs,  but  how  am  I  to 
obtain  possession  of  that  money?  It  is  mine,  and  I  am 
determined  to  have  it.  Here,  Billy!  Here,  Billy!" 

Julian's  horse,  which  was  standing  under  a  dilapidated 
shed,  raised  his  head  on  hearing  his  name  pronounced, 
and  seeing  his  master  open  one  of  the  cribs,  came  up, 
expecting  the  ear  of  corn  which  the  boy  never  failed  to 
have  ready  for  him  whenever  he  passed  through  the 
stable-yard.  Julian  knew  where  Tom  kept  his  saddle 
and  bridle,  and  it  was  but  the  work  of  a  few  seconds  to 
place  them  on  the  horse.  When  this  had  been  done  he 
climbed  over  the  corn  to  the  farther  end  of  the  crib, 
and  began  tossing  aside  the  ears,  muttering  as  he  did  so: 

"This  place  is  a  regular  repository  for  stolen  goods. 
I  have  found  more  than  one  article  belonging  to  me 
stowed  away  here,  and  unless  I  am  very  much  mistaken 
— ah!  I  thought  so.  Here  are  my  furs — all  baled  up 
and  ready  for  transportation,  thanks  to  Tom  and  Jake 
— my  rifle  and  my  hunting-knife.  Now,  if  they  had 


CHASED  BY  A  BLOOD-HOUND.  (55 

only  left  my  money  here  I  would  be  on  my  way  to  St. 
Joseph  in  less  than  five  minutes.  I  must  have  it  if  it 
takes  me  a  week  to  get  it." 

Julian  hastily  pulled  the  canvas  cover  off  his  rifle, 
and  slung  the  weapon  over  his  shoulder  by  a  broad  strap 
that  was  attached  to  it,  buckled  his  hunting-knife  about 
his  waist,  placed  his  furs,  which  Tom  and  Jake  had 
tied  up  in  one  bundle,  close  at  hand,  and  once  more  be- 
gan throwing  the  corn  aside,  searching  everywhere  for 
his  powder-horn  and  bullet-pouch.  While  thus  en- 
gaged his  attention  was  attracted  by  a  great  uproar 
which  suddenly  arose  in  the  house.  He  listened,  and 
could  hear  the  tramping  of  heavy  feet  and  the  sound  of 
angry,  excited  voices,  with  which  were  presently  min- 
gled the  shrill  tones  of  Mrs.  Bowles,  who  thrust  her 
head  out  of  the  door  and  shouted  for  Nero. 

"  The  blood-hound ! "  gasped  Julian.  "  I  didn't  think 
Jack  Bowles  was  as  bad  as  that.  Oh!  for  just  one  load 
for  my  rifle!  But  why  should  Nero  harm  me?  He  has 
known  me  as  long  as  he  has  known  any  of  the  family. 
I  have  often  shared  my  meals  with  him,  and  perhaps  if 
he  overtakes  me  he  will  recognize  me." 

Julian  knew  too  much,  however,  of  the  nature  of  the 
fierce  brute  to  indulge  long  in  this  hope. 

Nero  was  the  terror  of  the  neighborhood,  and  when 
aroused  he  had  been  known  to  defy  Jack  Bowles  him- 
self. Our  hero  was  perfectly  well  aware  that  the  hound 
would  trail  him  as  he  would  a  deer,  and  that  if  by  any 
chance  he  succeeded  in  overtaking  him,  he  would  pull 
him  down  and  throttle  him  without  the  least  mercy. 
His  heart  beat  a  trifle  faster  than  usual  when  he 
thought  of  the  probable  results  of  a  fight  with  the  ter- 
rible animal,  and  his  hands  trembled  as  he  caught  up 
his  bundle  of  furs  and  clambered  over  the  corn  toward 
the  door. 

He  had  left  Billy  with  his  head  in  the  crib,  feasting 
on  the  corn  within  his  reach,  and  he  believed  that  he 
would  remain  there  until  he  was  ready  to  mount  him; 
but  when  he  came  out  of  the  door  he  saw  him  at  the 
farther  end  of  the  yard,  prancing  and  playing  about  in 
high  glee. 


66  JULIAN  MORTIMER, 

The  boy  ran  toward  him,  pronouncing  his  name  in  a 
low  voice,  but  Billy,  instead  of  obeying  the  call,  kicked 
up  his  heels  and  galloped  away  to  the  other  side  of  the 
yard.  Just  then  Julian  heard  the  door  of  the  cabin 
thrown  open,  and  looking  back  saw  the  hound  spring 
into  the  room  and  fawn  upon  his  master. 

"I'm  caught,"  thought  our  hero,  in  intense  alarm. 
"  I  dare  not  wait  to  secure  my  horse,  and  on  foot  I  can 
never  hope  to  escape  from  that  dog.  I  might  as  well 
give  up  now  as  any  time." 

The  boy's  actions,  however,  did  not  indicate  that  he 
had  the  least  idea  of  surrendering  himself  without  a 
struggle  for  his  freedom. 

After  one  more  unsuccessful  attempt  to  capture  his 
unruly  steed,  he  threw  his  pack  of  furs  over  his  shoul- 
der, leaped  the  fence  that  inclosed  the  stable-yard,  and 
striking  the  path  that  led  to  the  woods,  ran  for  his  life. 
He  did  not  waste  time  in  looking  back,  and  there  was 
no  need  of  it,  for  his  ears  kept  him  posted  in  all  that 
was  going  on.  He  knew  when  Jack  and  his  dog  came 
out  of  the  cabin,  and  the  cold  sweat  started  out  from 
every  pore  in  his  body  when  Nero's  deep-toned  bay,  and 
his  master's  exultant  yells,  rang  out  on  the  still  air,  tell- 
ing him  that  the  trail  had  been  found  and  the  pursuit 
commenced. 

Calling  to  his  aid  all  the  power  he  had  thus  far  held 
in  reserve,  Julian  flew  along  the  path  with  the  speed  of 
a  frightened  deer,  and  with  a  few  bounds  reached  the 
cover  of  the  woods. 

Without  in  the  least  slackening  his  pace,  he  threw  his 
bundle  of  furs  into  the  bushes  on  one  side  of  the  path, 
and  pitched  his  rifle  as  far  as  he  could  in  the  opposite 
direction.  His  second  move  was  to  pull  off  his  coat 
and  wrap  it  around  his  left  arm,  and  his  third  to  draw 
his  hunting-knife  from  its  sheath,  and  tie  the  thong  of 
buckskin  which  was  attached  to  the  handle  around  his 
wrist.  His  face  all  this  while  wore  an  expression  that 
would  have  astonished  Jack  Bowles  could  he  have  seen 
it. 

Being  now  relieved  of  every  encumbrance,  Julian  flew 


CHASED  BY  A  BLOOD-HOUND.  6? 

along  with  redoubled  speed,  through  darkness  so  intense 
that  he  could  scarcely  see  his  hand  before  his  face,  leap- 
ing logs  and  ditches,  and  struggling  through  thickets  of 
briers  and  cane  that  at  almost  any  other  time  would 
have  effectually  checked  his  progress,  all  the  while  lis- 
tening to  the  baying  of  the  hound,  and  wondering  why 
the  animal  was  so  long  in  overtaking  him. 

When  he  had  accomplished  nearly  half  a  mile,  and  the 
sounds  of  the  chase  began  to  grow  fainter,  showing  that 
his  pursuers  were  losing  ground,  he  uttered  an  exclama- 
tion of  delight,  and  slackened  his  pace. 

"I  thought  Nero's  music  did  not  ring  out  as  loud  and 
clear  as  usual,"  said  he  to  himself;  "and  now  I  know 
the  reason.  Jack  is  holding  fast  to  him,  and  the  dog  is 
choking  himself  to  death  trying  to  get  away.  Mr. 
Bowles  never  saw  the  day  that  he  could  catch  me  in  a 
fair  race.  I  may  as  well  go  slower  and  save  my 
breath." 

But,  even  as  these  thoughts  were  passing  through 
Julian's  mind,  he  heard  a  sound  behind  him  that 
brought  from  him  a  cry  of  alarm,  and  caused  him  to 
spring  forward  again  with  all  the  power  he  could  com- 
mand. It  was  a  yell  of  rage  from  Jack,  accompanied  by 
a  loud,  ringing  bay,  such  as  Nero  usually  uttered  when 
following  a  trail.  The  eager  hound  had  escaped  from 
his  master's  control. 

The  fugitive  shuddered  at  the  thought,  and  would  not 
permit  himself  to  believe  it;  but  in  a  few  seconds  the 
fact  became  too  apparent.  Nero's  bays  sounded  nearer 
and  nearer,  and  presently  Julian  heard  him  crashing 
through  the  bushes  behind  him. 

His  lightness  of  foot  could  not  save  him  now.  The 
fight  he  so  much  dreaded  could  not  be  avoided,  and  the 
sooner  he  was  prepared  for  it  the  better. 

To  think,  with  Julian,  was  to  act.  He  at  once 
decided  that  the  little  open  glade  he  was  then  traversing 
should  be  the  battle-ground.  It  was  almost  entirely  free 
from  undergrowth,  and  moreover,  the  branches  of  the 
trees  overhead  were  not  so  thick  as  to  entirely  shut  out 
the  light  of  the  moon,  which,  just  then,  as  if  in 


68  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

sympathy  with  the  fugitive,  made  a  feeble  effort  to  shine 
through  the  clouds  that  obscured  it.  . 

A  few  rapid  steps  brought  him  to  the  opposite  side  of 
the  glade,  and  to  the  foot  of  a  huge  poplar.  Here  he 
faced  about,  and  taking  his  stand  with  his  back  against 
the  tree,  so  that  the  shock  of  the  first  collision  might 
not  knock  him  off  his  feet,  he  wrapped  his  coat  closer 
about  his  arm,  and  fastened  it  there  by  tying  the  sleeves 
in  a  knot  with  his  teeth,  grasped  his  hunting-knife  with 
a  firmer  hold,  and  calmly  awaited  the  appearance  of  the 
blood-hound.  Nor  was  the  contest  long  delayed. 

Stimulated  by  the  freshness  of  the  trail,  Nero  came 
on  with  long  and  rapid  bounds,  and  at  last  broke  from  a 
thicket  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  glade,  and  with  a  bay 
which  rang  in  Julian's  ears  like  the  knell  of  death, 
moved  swiftly  toward  his  victim. 

The  fugitive  had  barely  time  to  settle  his  hat  more 
firmly  on  his  head  and  brace  himself  for  the  shock,  when 
the  fierce  animal  arose  in  the  air  and  launched  himself 
at  his  throat.  The  arm  with  the  coat  wrapped  around 
it  was  quickly  interposed,  and  Nero's  ponderous  jaws 
closed  upon  it  with  a  power  that,  for  an  instant,  ren- 
dered Julian  incapable  of  action.  He  was  borne  back 
against  the  tree  by  the  weight  of  the  brute,  but  rallied 
in  a  moment,  and  then  began  the  most  desperate 
struggle  of  his  life. 

The  hound  was  as  quick  as  a  cat  in  his  movements, 
and  seemed  endowed  with  as  many  lives;  for,  although 
the  boy's  long,  keen  blade  found  lodgment  in  his  body 
more  than  once,  it  appeared  to  make  no  impression  upon 
him.  He  clung  to  Julian's  arm  with  the  tenacity  of  a 
bull-dog,  never  once  loosening  or  shifting  his  hold;  and 
now  and  then,  throwing  all  his  strength  into  the  effort, 
he  gave  his  antagonist  a  shake  that  brought  him  to  his 
knees. 

To  make  matters  worse,  Jack  Bowles  was  not  far  be- 
hind. He  was  soon  near  enough  to  shout  directions  to 
his  hound.  He  heard  the  sounds  of  the  struggle,  and 
believing  that  his  favorite  was  gaining  the  mastery, 
ordered  him  to  let  go  his  hold. 


70  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

"  He  is  past  minding,  Jack,"  shouted  Julian,  whose 
courage  and  determination  had  never  once  flagged  dur- 
ing all  the  doubtful  contest;  "and  when  I  am  done  with 
him  he  will  be  past  hearing  you." 

Jack  heard  every  word,  and  comprehended  the  situa- 
tion as  well  as  if  there  had  been  light  enough  for  him  to 
see  everything  that  was  going  on.  It  was  wonderful  how 
quickly  his  tone  changed. 

"Hi!  hi!"  he  yelled,  forcing  his  burly  form  through 
the  bushes  with  all  the  speed  of  which  he  was  capable, 
•  •  pull  him  down,  Nero !  Shake  him  to  death,  ye  rascal ! 
Drop  that  ar  we'pon,  Julian,  or  I'll  larrup  ye  within  an 
inch  of  yer  life.  I  wouldn't  have  that  dog  hurt  for 
$100." 

"  You  ought  to  have  thought  of  that  before  you  put 
him  on  my  trail,"  replied  Julian.  "There!  Thank 
goodness  that  ends  it." 

The  hound  ceased  the  battle  as  suddenly  as  he  begun 
it.  He  became  limp  and  lifeless  all  at  once,  and  sank 
to  the  ground  in  a  heap,  dragging  Julian  with  him. 
But  even  in  death  his  jaws  would  not  relax  their  hold. 
His  long  teeth  had  caught  in  the  coat,  and  Julian  could 
not  release  his  arm. 

Just  then,  Jack  Bowies  burst  from  the  bushes,  and 
came  lumbering  across  the  glade.  He  saw  Julian 
kneeling  beside  the  hound  and  knew  instinctively  what 
had  happened.  His  astonishment  and  rage  knew  no 
bounds. 

"Dog-gone!"  he  roared;  "ye've  done  it  now,  boy.  I 
wouldn't  be  in  yer  cowhide  shoes  fur  no  money.  Hold 
on,  tlr.ir!  Come  back  here,  or " 

The  oaths  and  threats  with  which  Jack  awoke  the 
echoes  of  the  forest  made  Julian's  blood  run  cold,  but 
they  did  not  check  his  flight. 

Finding  himself  unable  to  obtain  possession  of  his 
coat,  he  slipped  his  arm  out  of  it  and  fled,  leaving  the 
garment  in  the  hound's  mouth. 

He  was  out  of  sight  in  u  moment. 


CHAPTEE  IX. 

GOOD    FOR    EVIL. 


ULIAN,  almost  exhausted  by  his  violent  ex- 
ertions, was  in  no  condition  to  continue  his 
liight.  He  simply  ran  to  the  opposite  side 
of  the  poplar,  in  front  of  which  the  fight 
had  taken  place,  and  threw  himself  flat  between  the 
roots,  where  he  lay  trembling  with  fear,  and  hardly 
daring  to  breathe  lest  Jack  should  discover  him.  But 
that  worthy  was  too  angry  to  see  anything  except  his 
prostrate  hound.  He  bent  over  the  animal  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  then  i-ushed  frantically  oft'  in  the  direction  he 
supposed  Julian  had  gone,  stamping  through  the  bushes 
like  a  mad  man  and  stopping  now  and  then  to  listen  for 
the  sound  of  the  fugitive's  footsteps.  He  made  a  wide 
circuit  through  the  woods,  searching  everywhere  for  the 
object  of  his  vengeance,  and  finally  came  back  to  his 
favorite  again. 

He  seemed  to  be  unable  to  bring  himself  to  believe 
that  he  had  seen  Nero  alive  for  the  last  time.  He  placed 
him  upon  his  feet,  called  him  by  name,  and  even  shook 
him  to  make  him  show  some  signs  of  life;  and  when 
at  last  he  had  satisfied  himself  that  the  dog  was  really 
dead,  he  jumped  up  and  spurned  him  with  his  heavy 
boot. 

"Only  think!"  he  exclaimed  aloud;  "a,  hound  that 
could  pull  down  a  four-pronged  buck  as  easy  as  he  could 
a  chicken,  that  could  stretch  a  two-year-ole  bar  while  ye 
was  a  thinkin'  about  it,  an'  chaw  up  a  full-grown  wild- 
cat every  mornin'  afore  breakfast,  has  met  his  match  at 
last  in  that  leetle  pale-face  Julian,  who  doesn't  look  as 
if  he  had  pluck  enough  to  face  a  mouse.  Nero,  I  am 
teetotally  ashamed  of  ye.  Whar  is  that  Julian?  If  I 
don't  ketch  him  I  shall  lost  the  money  I  was  goin'  to 


72  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

make  by  that  trip  to  Orleans.  But  I'll  make  more 
outen  Mr.  Mortimer.  I'll  have  that  watch  an'  that 
ring,  an'  everything  he's  got  in  his  pockets  afore  day- 
light. I  hain't  a  goin'  to  be  swindled  on  all  sides,  I 
bet  ye." 

When  Jack  had  finished  his  soliloquy — every  word  of 
which  Julian  had  overheard — he  once  more  began  his 
search  for  the  fugitive.  The  boy  remained  quiet  in  his 
concealment  until  the  sound  of  his  footsteps  had  died 
away,  and  then  with  a  long  breath  of  relief  arose  to  his 
feet  and  went  to  recover  his  coat.  He  found  it  where 
Jack  had  thrown  it  after  freeing  it  from  the  teeth  of 
the  hound.  It  had  never  bean  a  very  valuable  piece  of 
property  since  it  came  into  his  possession,  and  now  it  was 
in  a  worse  condition  than  ever;  but  Julian,  knowing  that 
he  was  destined  for  months  to  come  to  live  entirely  in 
the  open  air,  could  not  think  of  leaving  it  behind.  He 
threw  the  garment  over  his  shoulder,  and  taking  a  last 
look  at  the  hound,  and  shuddering  as  he  recalled  the 
incidents  of  the  fight,  bent  his  steps  through  the  woods 
toward  his  store-house.  He  wanted  to  see  what  Tom  and 
Jake  had  done  to  it.  Perhaps  they  had  left  something- 
there  worth  saving.  He  was  very  cautious  in  his  move- 
ments, stealing  along  with  a  step  that  would  not  have 
awakened  a  cricket  and  pausing  every  few  feet  to  listen. 
But  he  heard  no  suspicious  sounds,  and  when  he  reached 
the  cliff  in  which  his  store-house  was  located  he  was  sat- 
isfied that  he  had  seen  the  last  of  his  enemies  for  that 
night  at  least. 

He  found  the  ruins  of  his  store-house  lying  all  along 
the  side  of  the  bluff,  for  the  young  robbers,  not  content 
with  taking  possession  of  Julian's  valuables,  had  pulled 
out  the  saplings  of  which  the  house  was  built  and  scat- 
tered them  far  and  wide.  As  Julian  stood  looking  at 
the  ruins  of  the  cabin,  thinking  how  hard  he  had  worked 
to  build  it,  and  wondering  how  Jake  and  Tom  had  ever 
discovered  it,  he  heard  a  slight  rustling  in  the  bushes  by 
his  side,  and  before  he  could  turn  to  see  what  occasioned 
it,  he  found  himself  lying  flat  011  his  back  with  a  heavy 
weight  on  his  breast  holding  him  down.  At  the  same 
instant  he  felt  a  strap  passed  around  his  wrist. 


GOOD  FOR  EVIL.  73 

Had  his  assailant  conducted  his  operations  in  silence, 
Julian,  who  believed  that  he  had  fallen  into  the  clutches 
of  Jack  Bowles,  and  that  it  would  be  folly  to  resist,  would 
have  suffered  himself  to  be  bound  without  even  a  word 
of  remonstrance,  but  his  antagonist,  having  a  confeder- 
ate close  by,  and  believing  that  he  was  likely  to  have 
more  on  his  hands  than  he  could  well  attend  to,  shouted 
lustily  for  help. 

"  Here  he  is,  Jake,"  he  yelled.  "Hurry  up.  I'll  hold 
him  an'  ye  can  tie  him.  The  $20  are  our'n." 

"  Tom  Bowles ! "  cried  Julian. 

"  Sartin;  an'  ye'll  find  it  out  as  soon  as  we  get  ye  fast. 
Don't  go  to  bein'  sassy  now,  'cause  we  won't  b'ar  it.  Tie 
that  ar  strap  around  his  arms,  Jake." 

"Perhaps  Jake  isn't  man  enough  to  do  it,"  replied 
our  hero;  and  the  sequel  proved  that  he  was  not. 

Julian  arose  to  his  feet  as  easily  and  quickly  as  though 
there  had  been  no  one  there  to  prevent  him,  and  seizing 
Tom  by  the  collar,  gave  him  a  trip  and  a  push  that  sent 
him  heels  over  head  down  the  cliff. 

Without  waiting  to  see  what  had  become  of  him,  Ju- 
lian turned  upon  Jake,  and  then  began  another  fight, 
which,  although  by  no  means  of  so  serious  a  character 
as  the  one  Julian  had  had  a  few  minutes  before,  was 
quite  as  furious  and  determined.  Jake  was  older  and 
larger  and  stronger  than  Julian,  but  by  no  means  as  ac- 
tive. He  was  fighting  for  the  $10  his  father's  guest  had 
promised  him  if  our  hero  was  brought  back  to  the  cabin 
a  prisoner,  and  to  retain  possession  of  the  $80  he  carried 
in  his  pocket. 

He  knew  that  Julian  was  aware  that  he  had  the  money 
about  his  person,  for  the  very  first  clutch  he  made  was 
for  Jake's  pocket,  in  which  he  felt  the  box.  His  fingers 
closed  upon  it  at  once  with  a  tenacity  fully  equal  to  that 
with  which  our  hero  had  clung  to  his  arm. 

"Leave  go,  consarn  ye,"  yelled  Jake,  "or  I'll  punch 
ye!" 

"  Let  go  yourself,"  replied  Julian.  "  I  earned  it  hon- 
estly— it  is  mine,  and  I  am  going  to  have  it  if  I  have  to 
fight  you  here  till  daylight." 


74  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

"Help!  Tom,  help!"  shouted  Jake,  doubling  himself 
up  and  twisting  about  in  all  sorts  of  shapes  to  break  Ju- 
lian's hold.  "  Be  ye  a  coward  that  ye  stand  down  there 
gapin'  that  way?" 

Tom  did  not  reply,  and  neither  did  he  show  any  in- 
clination to  respond  to  his  brother's  appeals  for  assist- 
ance. He  stood  at  the  foot  of  the  bluff,  holding  his 
hands  to  his  side,  which  had  been  pretty  severely  bruised 
by  his  fall,  and  listening  to  the  footsteps  and  ejacula- 
tions of  some  one  who  was  approaching  through  the 
bushes  at  a  rapid  run. 

"  Ye  know  that  I've  got  a'most  a  hundred  dollars  of 
his'n  in  my  pocket! "  yelled  Jake,  indignant  at  the  con- 
duct of  his  brother.  "Be  ye  goin'  to  stand  thar  an'  let 
him  take  it  away  from  me  ?  " 

"A'most  a  hundred  dollars!"  cried  a  familiar  voice  in 
tones  of  great  amazement.  "  Hang  on  to  him,  Jake, 
an'  I'll  say  no  more  about  the  whoppin'  I  promised  ye." 

"0,  won't  ye  ketch  it  now,  Julian!"  shouted  Tom, 
almost  beside  himself  with  delight.  "Pap's  a  comin' !" 

Both  the  combatants  heard  the  words,  and  the  fight 
became  desperate  indeed.  Julian  strove  with  greater 
determination  than  ever  to  force  the  coveted  box  from 
Jake's  pocket,  and  the  latter,  encouraged  by  the  hope  of 
speedy  and  powerful  assistance,  confidently  continued 
the  struggle  which  he  had  more  than  once  been  on  the 
point  of  abandoning.  But  fortune  favored  the  rightful 
owner  of  the  money.  An  unlucky  step  on  the  part  of 
his  antagonist  precipitated  them  both  into  the  excava- 
tion in  which  the  store-house  had  stood,  and  that  ended 
the  contest. 

A  severe  bump  took  all  the  courage  out  of  Jake,  who, 
getting  up  a  howl  of  pain,  raised  both  hands  to  his  head, 
while  Julian,  with  a  shout  of  triumph,  secured  the  box 
and  sprung  out  of  the  cave.  A  burly  form  met  him 
on  the  brink,  and  strong  fingers  closed  on  his  coat 
collar. 

"  I've  got  ye  at  last! "  exclaimed  Jack  Bowles,  so  over- 
joyed that  he  could  scarcely  speak.  "  Give  up  them  hun- 
dred dollars  to  onct,  or  I'll  wallop  ye  till — 


GOOD  FOR  EVIL.  75 

Julian  did  not  hear  what  else  Jack  had  to  say,  for  he 
was  not  there.  Mr.  Bowles  stood  holding  at  arm's  length 
a  tattered  coat,  to  the  collar  of  which  he  was  clinging 
with  all  his  strength;  but  the  boy  who  had  been  in  the 
garment  when  he  took  hold  of  it  was  bounding  swiftly 
down  the  bluff. 

When  Julian  recovered  his  coat  after  his  fight  with 
the  hound,  he  had  thrown  it  over  his  shoulders  and  se- 
cured it  by  a  single  button  at  the  throat.  The  button 
had  given  away  under  Jack's  hold,  leaving  the  boy  at 
liberty  to  take  himself  off,  which  he  did  with  a  prompt- 
ness and  celerity  that  struck  Bowles  and  his  sons  mo- 
tionless with  astonishment.  By  the  time  they  had  re- 
covered themselves  sufficiently  to  think  of  pursuit  Julian 
was  out  of  hearing. 

"  Hurrah  for  me!"  soliloquized  the  fugitive,  hugging 
his  beloved  box  close  to  his  breast  and  stealing  along 
through  the  woods  as  noiselessly  as  a  spirit.  "I've  got 
everything  except  my  horse.  As  soon  as  Jack  and  his 
boys  have  gone  to  bed  I'll  catch  him  and  bid  good-by  to 
Missouri.  I  am  all  right  now." 

At  no  time  during  the  next  half-hour  was  Julian  out 
of  sight  of  the  ruins  of  his  store-house,  or  out  of  hearing 
of  the  voices  of  Jack  Bowles  and  his  boys.  He  sat  on  a 
log  so  near  them  that  had  it  been  daylight  he  would 
certainly  have  been  discovered,  watching  their  move- 
ments and  listening  attentively  to  every  word  they  said. 
He  heard  Jake  relate  the  history  of  the  box  containing 
the  $80,  and  learned  for  the  lirst  time  that  he  and  his 
brother  had  followed  him  when  he  went  out  to  examine 
his  traps,  and  thus  discovered  his  secret. 

As  Jack  and  his  boys  believed  that  Julian  would  make 
the  best  of  his  way  up  the  river  now  that  he  had  recov- 
ered his  money,  they  did  not  attempt  any  vigorous  pur- 
suit. They  ran  a  short  distance  through  the  woods  in 
the  direction  in  which  the  fugitive  had  disappeared,  and 
then  Jack,  utterly  discouraged  and  almost  boiling  over 
with  fury,  ordered  his  sons  to  follow  him  toward  home. 

"A'most  a  hundred  dollars!"  he  repeated  for  the 
twentieth  time.  "Don't  it  beat  all  the  world  how  that 


76  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

boy  could  make  more  money  than  the  hul  of  us  put  to- 
gether? An'  ye  say  that  he's  got  a  bundle  of  mink  skins 
as  big  as  ye  can  shoulder  that  he  stole  outen  the  crib 
whar  ye  had  hid  'em?  They'll  bring  him  forty  or  fifty 
dollars  more,  consarn  it  all.  Why  didn't  ye  tell  me  about 
the  money  an'  the  furs  the  fust  thing  when  ye  brought 
'em  home,  like  ye  had  oughter  done  ?  I'm  goin'  to  f oiler 
him  to-morrow  on  hossback.  If  I  don't  ketch  him  I 
shall  owe  ye  two  lickins,  an'  if  they  ain't  sich  as  ye'll 
remember  the  longest  day  ye  live,  I'm  a  Dutchman." 

Jack  and  his  boys  walked  slowly  along  the  path  that 
led  from  the  store-house  to  the  clearing,  and  as  soon  as 
they  were  out  of  sight  in  the  darkness,  Julian  arose 
from  his  log  and  followed  after  them.  He  kept  within 
hearing  of  their  voices  all  the  while,  and  when  they 
reached  the  clearing  he  stood  at  the  fence  Avhich  in- 
closed the  stable-yard,  and  saw  them  enter  the  house. 

As  soon  as  they  had  disappeared,  he  ran  back  to  the 
place  where  he  had  left  his  rifle  and  furs,  which,  as  he 
had  taken  particular  pains  to  mark  the  locality,  he  was 
not  long  in  finding.  The  rifle  he  slung  over  his  shoul- 
der, and  the  furs,  together  with  the  box  containing  his 
money,  he  concealed  in  a  hollow  log. 

This  being  done,  he  once  more  bent  his  steps  toward 
the  clearing,  resolved  to  make  another  attempt  to  secure 
his  horse.  The  animal,  which  was  still  running  rest- 
lessly about  the  yard  with  the  saddle  and  bridle  on, 
positively  refused  to  permit  himself  to  be  captured,  and 
Julian  finally  went  toward  one  of  the  cribs,  intending 
to  try  the  persuasive  effects  of  an  ear  of  corn.  As  he 
drew  near  the  door  he  stopped,  almost  certain  that  he 
saw  the  figure  of  a  man  standing  in  the  shadow  of  the 
crib.  A  moment  later  he  knew  that  his  eyes  had  not 
deceived  him,  for  the  man,  finding  himself  discovered, 
came  out  in  plain  sight  and  walked  rapidly  toward  him. 
It  was  Mr.  Mortimer. 

"  I  knew  you  \vould  never  go  away  and  leave  your 
horse,"  said  he,  in  a  tone  of  triumph.  "I  have  been 
watching  for  you  for  the  last  half-hour.  I  have  a  legal 
right  to  control  your  actions,  my  boy,  and  you  will  save 


GOOD  FOR  EVIL.  77 

yourself  some  trouble  by — Julian,  stop!  What  do  you 
mean  ?  " 

The  stranger  lost  his  commanding,  threatening  air  in 
an  instant,  and  coming  to  a  sudden  halt,  raised  both  his 
hands  before  his  face,  and  turned  away  his  head  as  if  he 
had  seen  something  frightful.  The  change  was  brought 
about  by  an  action  on  the  part  of  Julian  who,  believing 
that  the  man  was  near  enough  to  him  to  prevent  any 
attempt  at  escape,  cocked  his  rifle  and  leveled  it  full  at 
Mr.  Mortimer's  breast.  He  acted  on  his  first  impulse. 
Had  he  taken  a  second  thought  he  would  probably  have 
made  no  move  of  this  kind,  for  he  knew  that  the 
weapon  was  empty.  But  Mr.  Mortimer  did  not,  and 
he  stopped  and  backed  away  from  the  boy  with  much 
greater  haste  than  he  had  used  in  approaching  him. 

"What  do  you  mean,  you  young  outlaw?"  repeated 
the  man,  his  voice  trembling  in  spite  of  all  his  efforts 
to  control  it. 

"  I  mean  that  I  am  not  going  to  allow  myself  to  be 
taken  on  board  a  flatboat  and  pushed  overboard,"  replied 
Julian,  calmly;  and  seeing  that  the  empty  rifle  proved 
so  valuable  an  assistant,  he  resolutely  kept  it  pointed 
toward  the  stranger's  breast. 

"Turn  that  weapon  away!"  cried  Mr.  Mortimer, 
after  shifting  his  position  a  dozen  times  to  get  out  of 
range  of  the  deadly  muzzle.  "  I  will  have  you  arrested 
the  first  thing  in  the  morning." 

"Very  good,"  answered  Julian.  "Then  perhaps 
you  will  be  called  upon  to  show  by  what  authority  you 
took  me  away  from  my  home  and  brought  me  here,  and 
why  you  want  me  drowned  in  the  river." 

"I  am  your  guardian,  I  tell  you." 

' '  I  suppose  I  am  at  liberty  to  do  as  I  please  about  be- 
lieving that,  am  I  not?  But  admitting  that  you  are,  it 
does  not  give  you  the  right  to  abuse  me,  does  it?  Who 
made  you  my  guardian?" 

Before  Mr.  Mortimer  could  answer  this  question  the 
door  of  the  cabin  opened,  and  Jack  Bowles  appeared 
on  the  threshold,  and  stood  looking  out  into  the  dark- 
ness. Julian's  guardian,  if  such  he  was,  was  about  to 


?8  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

call  out  to  him,  but  checked  the  words  that  arose  to  his 
lips  when  he  saw  the  muzzle  of  the  rifle  looking  straight 
into  his  face. 

"Don't  speak  above  your  breath, "  said  the  boy,  in 
low,  earnest  tones.  "  I  have  just  one  more  word  to  say 
to  you,  and  then  I  am  off.  I  suppose  you  think  I  am 
the  only  one  about  here  who  has  enemies,  do  you  not? 
Well,  you  are  mistaken.  Your  life  is  in  danger,  if  you 
only  knew  it." 

"  My  life!"  repeated  Mr.  Mortimer,  as  soon  as  he 
could  speak.  "  From  whom?" 

"  Jack  Bowles.  He  is  bound  to  have  money,  and  he 
don't  care  how  he  gets  it.  As  he  and  his  boys  have 
failed  in  their  attempts  to  rob  me,  and  since  he  is  likely 
to  lose  what  you  offered  to  pay  him  if  he  would  accom- 
pany you  to  New  Orleans,  he  has  determined  to  rob  you 
to-night.  I  heard  him  say  so.  If  you  go  to  sleep  you 
will  never  see  the  sun  rise  again.  This  is  one  act  of 
kindness  I  have  been  able  to  do  you  in  return  for  the 
evil  you  have  done  me.  Good  night." 

"  Mr.  Mortimer,  be  that  you  a  standin'  out  thar  by 
the  corn-crib?"  shouted  Jack  Bowles. 

The  gentleman  heard  the  question,  but  he  was  think- 
ing too  busily  about  something  else  to  reply.  Ho  stood 
motionless,  watching  Julian  as  he  sped  swiftly  through 
the  stable-yard,  and  when  he  leaped  the  fence  and  ran 
along  the  path  that  led  toward  the  woods,  Mr.  Mortimer 
slowly  and  reluctantly  returned  to  the  cabin. 

"  Wasn't  thar  nobody  out  thar  with  ye?"  demanded 
Jack. 

"Yes,"  was  the  scarcely  audible  reply;  "Julian  was 
there,  but  I  could  not  detain  him,  for  he  had  a  loaded 
rifle  in  his  hands." 

"  Why  didn't  ye  holler?"  asked  Jack  fiercely.  "  I've 
got  a  rifle,  I  reckon." 

"  Would  you  call  for  help  if  you  saw  a  weapon  pointed 
straight  at  your  breast?" 

Jack  made  no  answer.  He  stepped  aside  to  allow  his 
guest  to  pass,  and  Mr.  Mortimer  entered  and  took  his 
seat  on  one  of  the  nail-kegs.  He  glanced  at  his  host, 


GOOD  FOR  EVIL.  ?9 

and  saw  that  there  was  something  about  his  person  that 
he  had  not  before  noticed.  It  was  broad  leather  belt, 
from  which  protruded  the  buck-horn  handle  of  a  bowie- 
knife.  Mr.  Mortimer  shuddered  as  he  looked  at  it,  and 
wished  himself  away  in  the  woods  with  Julian, 


CHAPTER  X 

JULIAJST   HAS   A   VISITOR. 


F  WE  were  interested  in  the  fortunes  of  Mr. 
Mortimer,  we  might  put  in  an  interesting 
chapter  here  by  relating  the  various  incidents 
that  transpired  in  the  cabin  during  the  night; 
but  as  we  have  nothing  to  do  with  his  personal  ad- 
ventures only  in  so  far  as  they  are  connected  with  Ju- 
lian's, it  will  be  enough  to  say  that  it  was  a  night  of 
terror  for  him,  and  one  that  he  never  forgot;  that,  de- 
clining the  pressing  invitation  his  host  extended  to  him 
to  occupy  the  bed  which  Mrs.  Bowles  had  arranged  for 
his  especial  benefit,  the  guest  took  his  seat  in  the  corner 
in  which  the  billets  of  wood  for  the  fire-place  were  piled, 
and  folding  his  arms  and  leaning  his  head  against  the 
wall,  watched  Jack  as  closely  as  ever  a  cat  watched  a 
mouse;  that  Jack,  seeing  that  the  gentleman's  suspi- 
cions had  been  aroused  in  some  mysterious  manner, 
fumed  inwardly,  but  believing  that  time  and  patience 
would  accomplish  wonders,  settled  back  on  his  nail-keg 
to  wait  until  his  guest,  overcome  by  weariness  and  want 
of  sleep,  should  be  compelled  to  seek  repose;  that,  as 
the  night  wore  on,  and  Mr.  Mortimer  never  once 
changed  his  position  or  showed  the  least  sign  of  drowsi- 
ness, Jack  began  to  grow  uneasy,  and  sat  fingering  the 
handle  of  his  knife,  and  occasionally  running  his  eyes 
over  the  gentleman's  person  from  head  to  foot,  as 
if  mentally  calculating  the  chances  of  a  successful 
encounter  with  him;  that  finally,  resolved  on  trying 
strategy,  Jack  threw  himself  upon  the  bed,  and  after 
snoring  lustily  for  half  an  hour,  suddenly  opened  his 
eyes,  which  had  never  once  been  closed  in  sleep,  only  to 
find  Mr.  Mortimer  as  watchful  and  seated  as  near  the 
billets  of  wood  as  ever;  that  then  Jack's  patience  was 


JULIAN  HAS  A    VISITOR,  81 

all  exhausted,  and  he  snored  in  earnest,  but  the  visitor 
never  moved  until  daylight  began  to  stream  in  through 
the  half -open  door. 

No  one,  to  have  heard  the  hearty  good-morning  Jack 
wished  his  guest  as  soon  as  he  opened  his  eyes,  would 
have  believed  that  he  had  ever  had  designs  upon  his 
life.  Neither  of  them  alluded  to  the  matter  in  any 
way,  but  Bowles  noticed  that  his  guest  was  always  on 
the  alert. 

About  10  o'clock  in  the  forenoon  a  flatboat  might 
have  been  seen  moored  in  front  of  the  cabin.  On  the 
shore  stood  a  party  of  three  men,  one  of  whom  was 
Jack  Bowles,  another  Mr.  Mortimer,  and  the  third  the 
captain  of  the  boat — a  gentleman  who  looked  enough 
like  Jack  to  be  his  brother.  After  saying  this  it  is 
scarcely  necessary  to  add  that  he  carried  the  face  of  a 
villain. 

A  fourth  man  was  pacing  the  bank  a  short  distance 
from  the  party  mentioned,  watching  all  their  move- 
ments, listening  eagerly  to  the  few  words  of  their  con- 
versation that  now  and  then  caught  his  ear,  and  noticing 
with  some  nervousness,  which  showed  itself  in  the  fre- 
quent changing  of  his  hands  from  the  arm-holes  of  his 
vest  to  the  pockets  of  his  coat,  that  they  were  looking 
at  him  rather  suspiciously. 

This  gentleman,  whoever  he  was,  had  evidently  be- 
stowed considerable  pains  upon  his  toilet;  and  the  digni- 
fied manner  in  which  he  bore  himself,  as  well  as  the 
satisfied  and  admiring  glances  which  he  occasionally  cast 
down  at  his  dress,  indicated  that  he  had  a  high  opinion 
of  himself  and  his  personal  appearance. 

His  garments  were  all  of  the  finest  broadcloth;  but  as 
some  of  them  had  been  made  for  larger,  and  others  for 
smaller  men  than  himself,  they  fitted  him  oddly  enough. 
His  trowsers  being  too  long,  were  rolled  up  around  the 
tops  of  a  pair  of  heavy  cowhide  boots;  and  his  coat- 
sleeves  being  too  short,  revealed  arms  that  were  as  brown 
and  muscular  as  those  of  a  blacksmith.  A  heavy  watch- 
chain  hung  across  his  vest,  and  the  fingers  of  both  his 
hands  were  ornamented  with  enormous  seal  rings.  But 


82  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

little  could  be  seen  of  his  face,  for  it  was  almost  en- 
tirely concealed  by  thick,  bushy  whiskers,  and  by  a  large 
red  handkerchief,  which  was  passed  under  his  chin  and 
tied  over  his  head. 

"Who  is  he?"  asked  Mr.  Mortimer,  who  became  un- 
accountably nervous  and  excited  the  instant  his  eyes 
rested  on  the  stranger. 

"  He  gave  no  name/'  replied  the  captain  of  the  flat- 
boat.  "  He  came  aboard  of  us  shortly  after  you  left 
yesterday,  and  engaged  passage  for  New  Orleans.  He  is 
going  to  the  West  Indies  for  his  health." 

"For  his  health!"  echoed  Mr.  Mortimer. 

He  turned  and  looked  at  the  stranger  again,  taking  in 
at  a  glance  his  powerful  shoulders,  which,  like  those  of 
Tom  Hood's  coachman,  were  much  "too  broad  to  be 
conceived  by  any  narrow  mind,"  his  quick,  elastic  step, 
ruddy  face,  and  brawny  hands  and  arms,  and  asked 
himself  if  a  finer  specimen  of  robust  health  could  be 
found  anywhere. 

"I  know  that  man  in  spite  of  his  disguise,"  said  he, 
at  length,  "  and  I  know  what  brought  him  here.  He 
must  not  be  allowed  to  accompan1y  us,  captain.  I  will 
give  you  double  his  fare  if  you  will  order  him  to  stay 
ashore." 

"  It  is  too  late,"  replied  the  skipper.  "  He  has  paid 
his  passage,  and  I  charged  him  a  good  round  sum  too." 

' ( Well,  return  it  to  him,  and  tell  him  that  as  your 
cabin  is  to  be  occupied  by  a  dangerous  lunatic  and  his 
keepers  you  cannot  accommodate  him." 

'•  I  will  talk  to  him,  but  I  don't  know  how  much  good 
it  will  do.  He  is  very  impatient  to  start  down  the  river, 
and,  what  appears  strange  to  me,  he  is  anxious  to  go  in 
my  boat." 

"  It  isn't  at  all  strange  to  me.  His  name  is  Sanders, 
and  he  was  sent  out  here  to  watch  me,  and  by  my 
cousin." 

Mr.  Mortimer,  who  in  his  excitement  had  spoken  a 
little  too  hastily,  suddenly  checked  himself  and  looked 
savagely  at  the  man  whom  he  had  called  Sanders.  The 
latter,  observing  his  close  scrutiny,  pulled  his  handker- 


JULIAN  HAS  A    VISITOR.  83 

chief  closer  about  his  face  and  shifted  his  hands  from 
his  pockets  to  the  arm-holes  of  his  vest. 

"  Speaking  of  this  crazy  boy/'  said  the  captain,  "re- 
minds me  that  you  have  not  yet  told  me  when  you  will 
be  ready  to  start  with  him.  I  have  engaged  to  deliver 
my  cargo  of  hoop-poles  by  a  certain  time,  and  I  can  wait 
for  you  but  a  few  hours  longer.  You  say  that  the  boy 
has  taken  it  into  his  head  that  he  is  rich,  that  he  has 
friends  living  out  West,  and  that  he  has  escaped  and 
concealed  himself  in  the  woods?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  Jack.  "He  got  away  from  us  last 
night.  Me  an'  Mr.  Mortimer  were  jest  goin'  to  start 
after  him  on  hossback  when  yer  boat  come  in  sight. 
We'll  have  him  here  afore  sundown  if  thar's  men  enough 
in  the  county  to  hold  him.  Mebbe  this  feller  has  heerd 
of  him.  I'll  ask  him." 

The  person  referred  to  was  a  settler,  who  was  just  re- 
turning from  The  Corners,  and  who  at  that  moment  gal- 
loped up  on  his  horse.  He  stopped  when  he  saw  Jack 
preparing  to  speak  to  him,  and  in  reply  to  his  question 
if  he  had  seen  or  heard  of  Julian,  said: 

"  Yes;  I  saw  him  at  The  Corners  not  more  than  two 
hours  ago.  He  traded  off  845  worth  of  mink  skins  and 
bought  some  powder  and  lead.  He  said  that  he  had 
made  a  camp  on  the  bluffs  over  on  Beaver  Creek,  and 
that  he  was  going  to  stay  there  a  day  or  two.  Anything 
the  matter  with  him?" 

"  He's  gone  clean  outen  his  head,  that's  all,"  replied 
Jack. 

"  Crazy?"  cried  the  settler. 

1 '  Sartin.  He  stole  a'most  a  hundred  dollars  of  me 
last  night  an'  run  away.  He  wouldn't  a  done  that  if 
he'd  been  in  his  right  mind,  would  he?" 

Jack,  having  gained  all  the  information  he  desired, 
gave  Mr.  Mortimer  a  significant  look,  and  the  two 
walked  rapidly  toward  the  cabin,  at  the  door  of  which 
their  horses  were  standing,  saddled  and  bridled,  and 
springing  upon  their  backs  rode  off  across  the  clearing. 

"  Did  I  do  right  in  savin'  what  1  did  about  Julian?'' 
asked  Jack,  as  soon  as  he  and  his  companion  were  out  el 
hearing  of  the  men  on  the  bank. 


84  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

"  Perfectly.  I  want  everybody  who  is  likely  to  meet 
him  to  know  that  he  is  not  in  his  right  mind.  You  see, 
when  we  take  him  on  board  the  flatboat  he  may  tell  the 
captain  or  the  crew  that  we  are  his  enemies,  and  that  he 
knows  we  intend  to  do  him  some  injury;  but  as  we  have 
already  told  them  that  he  is  crazy  they  will  pay  no  atten- 
tion to  what  he  says.  Don't  you  understand?" 

"In  course.  But  ye  hain't  changed  yer  plans,  have 
ye?  Ye  hain't  a-goin'  to  put  him  in  a  'sylum,  be  ye?" 

"  I  never  had  any  such  intention.  If  he  falls  over- 
board you  shall  have  $200;  but,  of  course,  that  is  a 
matter  that  we  keep  to  ourselves." 

"  I  know  jest  what  ye  mean.  Folks  will  think  that 
we  take  Julian  on  board  the  flatboat  to  carry  him  to 
Orleans;  but  we  don't.  We  take  him  thar  so  as  to  drop 
him  into  the  river,  an'  get  him  outen  yer  way.  Make 
yer  mind  easy.  Them  two  hundred  is  mine." 

The  settler,  who  was  very  much  astonished  at  what 
Jack  had  told  him,  and  had  half  a  mind  to  join  in  the 
pursuit,  watched  him  and  his  companion  until  they 
were  out  of  sight,  and  then  continued  his  ride;  but  he 
had  not  gone  far  when  when  he  was  stopped  by  the  odd- 
looking  man  in  broadcloth. 

"Stranger,"  said  the  latter,  in  regular  backwoods 
vernacular,  "  whar  is  this  yere  Beaver  Creek  you  was  a 
speakin'  of?" 

"  I  don't  know  that  I  could  direct  you  so  that  you 
could  find  it,"  was  the  reply. 

"Who  said  I  wanted  to  find  it?"  inquired  the  man. 
"  I  only  axes  you  which  way  it  is  from  here,  an'  how 
fur?" 

"  Well,"  returned  the  settler,  facing  about  in  his 
saddle,  shutting  one  eye  and  gazing  at  the  woods 
through  the  half-closed  lids  of  the  other;  "it's  four 
miles  right  north  of  here  if  you  go  through  the  timber, 
and  eight  miles  if  you  go  by  the  road." 

The  man  in  broadcloth  walked  off  at  once,  and  with- 
out stopping  to  thank  the  settler  for  his  information. 
As  long  as  he  remained  within  sight  of  the  cabin  and 
fiatboat  he  was  very  deliberate  in  his  movements;  but 


JULIAN  HAS  A    J'fSfTOK.  85 

the  instant  the  woods  concealed  him  from  view,  he 
broke  into  a  rapid  run,  threading  his  way  through  the 
thick  bushes  with  a  celerity  that  was  surprising.  Up 
hill  and  down,  he  went,  never  once  slackening  his  pace 
or  deviating  from  the  course  the  settler  had  given  him, 
until  at  last  he  saw  a  thin  cloud  of  smoke  arising 
through  the  trees  in  front  of  him,  and  after  climbing  a 
precipitous  cliff,  found  himself  standing  face  to  face 
with  Julian  Mortimer. 

The  boy,  who  being  busy  with  his  preparations  for 
dinner,  had  not  heard  the  sound  of  his  footsteps  until 
he  reached  the  top  of  the  bluff,  jumped  up  with  his  gun 
in  his  hand,  ready  to  fight  or  run,  as  occasion  might 
require.  His  first  thought  was  that  his  enemies  had 
tracked  him  to  his  hiding-place;  but  finding  that  his 
visitor  was  a  stranger,  and  that  he  appeared  to  have  no 
hostile  intentions,  he  leaned  on  the  muzzle  of  his  rifle 
and  waited  for  him  to  make  known  his  business. 

The  man,  whose  breath  was  not  even  quickened  by 
his  long  and  rapid  run,  gazed  about  him  with  an  air 
of  interest.  He  looked  at  the  brush  shanty  which  Ju- 
lian had  erected  to  protect  him  from  the  weather,  at 
the  comfortable  bed  of  blankets  and  leaves  which  was 
arranged  under  the  sheltering  roof,  at  the  squirrels 
broiling  before  the  fire,  and  then  his  eyes  wandered  to 
our  hero,  at  Avhom  he  gazed  long  and  earnestly.  The 
boy  did  not  look  much  now  as  he  did  when  he  escaped 
from  Jack  Bowies'  cabin,  for  he  was  dressed  in  a  suit  of 
new  and  comfortable  clothes,  and  sported  a  wide- 
brimmed  hat  and  a  pair  of  high-top  boots. 

"Julian,"  exclaimed  the  stranger,  at  length.  "It's 
you  sure  enough,  hain't  it?  I  hain't  seed  you  fur 
more'n  eight  year,  but  I  would  know  you  any  whar." 

"Would  you?"  asked  Julian,  throwing  his  rifle  into 
the  hollow  of  his  arm  and  resting  his  thumb  on  the 
hammer;  "then  have  the  goodness  to  leave  here  at 
once.  I  am  suspicious  of  every  stranger  who  calls  me 
by  name." 

"An'  well  you  may  be,"  replied  the  man,  earnestly, 
"'cause  most  of  'em  are  enemies  to  you.  But  I  hain't. 


8  fj  J  ULIAfr  MOR  TIMER. 

I'm  a  friend,  an*  I  can  prove  it.  Do  you  know  that 
Dick  Mortimer  an'  Jack  Bowles  are  huntin'  the  country 
over  to  find  you  ?" 

"  Yes;  but  I  wasn't  aware  Mr.  Mortimer's  name  is 
Dick." 

"  Wai,  it  is.  The  flatboat's  come,  an'  when  they 
ketch  you  they're  goin'  to  take  you  to  Orleans  an'  lock 
you  up  fur  a  crazy  boy." 

"  Why,  they  said  last  night  that  they  were  going  to 
push  me  overboard  and  drown  me,"  said  Julian,  as  soon 
as  he  could  speak. 

"  Mebbe  they  be.  I  don't  know  what  they  are  goin' 
to  do — I'm  only  tellin'  you  what  I  heerd  'em  say." 

"  Who  are  you,  any  how;  and  how  does  it  come  that 
you  know  my  name?" 

"  Why,  boy,  I've  knowed  you  ever  since  you  was  knee 
high  to  a  duck,  an'  your  father  afore  you." 

"You  have?"  cried  Julian,  greatly  amazed. 

"  In  course.  An'  your  mother  an'  your  brother,  too. 
They  live  out  in  the  mountains,  an'  I  come  to  take  you 
to  'em.  They'll  be  monstrous  glad  to  see  you,  an* 
they're  waitin'  fur  you." 

"Are  they  all  alive?" 

"  The  last  blessed  one  of  'em." 

"I  remember  my  father,"  said  Julian,  gazing  thought- 
fully at  the  ground,  "and  it  seems  to  me  that  I  have 
some  recollection  of  my  brother;  but  I  never  knew  any- 
thing about  my  mother.  What  brought  you  here?" 

"I  come  to  your  camp  to  tell  you  that  Bowles  and 
Mortimer  are  comin'  arter  you  on  hossback,  an'  that  if 
you  want  to  save  yourself  you  had  better  dig  out.  An' 
I  come  to  Missouri  'cause  your  friends  sent  me  here 
arter  you.  I  know  the  hul  lot  of  'em,  I  tell  you,  an'  if 
you  will  trust  yourself  to  me  I  Avill  take  you  to  'em  safe 
an'  sound." 

Julian,  astounded  and  bewildered  by  this  proposition, 
dropped  the  butt  of  his  rifle  to  the  ground,  and  looked 
sharply  at  the  man,  as  if  he  meant  to  read  his  very 
thoughts.  Was  he  really  the  friend  he  professed  to  be? 
Of  one  thing  the  boy  was  certain — and  that  was  that  he 


JULIAN  HAS  A    VISITOR.  g? 

was  not  an  ally  of  Mr.  Mortimer.  If  lie  had  been  he 
would  not  have  warned  him  that  another  attempt  was 
about  to  be  made  to  capture  him. 

How  gladly  would  he  have  given  himself  up  to  the 
man's  guidance  if  he  had  only  been  sure  that  he  was 
trustworthy !  He  would  have  followed  him  all  over  the 
world,  and  braved  all  imaginable  dangers,  if  he  knew 
that  by  so  doing  he  would  be  restored  to  his  home  once 
more.  Home,!  How  the  word  thrilled  him! 

"  Who  in  the  world  am  I?"  Julian  asked  himself  in 
great  perplexity;  "and  how  does  it  happen  that  the 
moment  I  am  ready  to  carry  my  plans  into  execution, 
men  whom  I  never  remember  to  have  seen  before  should 
suddenly  appear  and  exhibit  so  deep  an  interest  in  me? 
If  I  have  such  good  friends,  who  are  so  very  anxious  to 
see  me,  why  did  they  leave  me  here  for  eight  long  years 
to  be  beaten,  and  starved,  and  treated  worse  than  a  dog? 
I  can't  understand  it  at  all." 

"  What  do  you  say?"  asked  the  stranger;  "will  you 
go?  You  had  better  be  in  a  hurry  about  making  up 
your  mind  to  something,  'cause  I  can  hear  the  trampin' 
of  bosses." 

"Yes,"  replied  Julian,  "I  shall  go;  but  I  shall  go 
alone." 

"  Wai,  then,"  continued  the  man,  who  was  plainly 
very  much  disappointed  by  this  decision,  "  let  me  give 
you  a  word  of  advice:  If  you  won't  trust  me,  don't  trust 
nobody — do  you  hear?  You'll  meet  plenty  of  folks  who 
know  you,  an'  who  will  have  something  to  say  to  you; 
but  don't  listen  to  'em.  Jine  a  wagon  train  at  St.  Joe, 
an'  when  you  reach  Fort  Kearney,  stop  thar.  You  will 
then  be  within  forty  miles  of  your  hum.  You'd  best  be 
gettin'  away  from  here,  'cause  them  fellers  is  comin' — I 
can  hear  'em." 

"  How  did  they  find  out  where  I  am?"  asked  Julian. 

"  Why,  some  chap  saw  you  tradin'  off  your  furs  this 
mornin'  an'  buying'  powder  an'  lead,  an'  he  told  'em. 
Why  don't  you  run?  Don't  you  hear  'em  comin'?" 

Julian  listened,  and  could  at  last  distinguish  the  rapid 
strokes  of  horses'  hoofs  on  the  hard  road.  He  knelt 


88  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

down  behind  a  log  that  lay  on  the  edge  of  the  bluff,  and 
looking  over  the  top  of  it,  waited  for  the  horsemen  to 
come  in  sight. 

The  sound  of  the  hoofs  grew  louder  and  louder,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  Mr.  Mortimer  came  into  view,  and 
drawing  rein  at  the  foot  of  the  bluff,  sprung  out  of  his 
saddle.  Jack  Bowles  was  not  with  him;  he  was  alone. 

"  I  am  not  afraid  of  him,"  thought  Julian.  "  I  kept 
him  at  bay  last  night  with  an  empty  rifle,  and  now  I 
have  a  loaded  one.  He  shall  never  capture  me." 

Julian  arose  to  his  feet,  and  turned  to  look  at  the 
stranger.  He  was  not  in  sight.  The  boy  had  not  heard 
even  the  rustle  of  a  leaf  to  tell  him  that  he  was  in 
motion,  and  yet  he  had  disappeared.  He  wished  now 
that  he  had  paid  more  attention  to  the  man's  warning; 
but  his  mind  was  so  fully  occupied,  and  he  was  so  deeply 
interested  in  what  he  had  had  to  say  about  the  home  and 
friends  that  were  waiting  for  him  away  off  in  the  mount- 
ains, that  he  had  hardly  given  a  thought  to  the  danger 
which  threatened  him.  He  began  to  think  of  it  now, 
however,  for  he  heard  Mr.  Mortimer  ascending  the  bluff. 

"  Hold  on,  down  there!"  cried  Julian.  "  I  am  watch- 
ing you." 

"Ah!  you  are  there,  are  you?"  replied  Mr.  Mortimer. 
"  I  will  soon  be  there,  too.  If  I  had  known  that  your 
rifle  was  empty,  I  should  have  secured  you  last  night." 

"Who  told  you  it  was  empty?" 

"  We  found  your  powder-horn  and  bullet-pouch  in  the 
corn-crib  this  morning.  Don't  attempt  any  resistance 
now.  You  are  surrounded,  and  cannot  escape." 

"  Surrounded!"  echoed  Julian. 

He  turned  quickly,  and  sure  enough  there  was  an 
enemy  in  his  rear,  who  had  mounted  the  bluff  on  the 
opposite  side,  and  approached  so  cautiously  that  the  boy 
had  not  heard  him.  It  was  Jack  Bowles. 


CHAPTER    XI. 

JACK'S  PLANS. 

HE  EXPRESSION  Julian  saw  on  the  face  of 
his  old  enemy  alarmed  him  greatly.  His 
countenance  was  distorted  with  fury,  and  the 
boy  saw  enough  in  it  to  satisfy  him  that  Jack 
intended  to  take  ample  revenge  on  him  for  what  he  had 
done.  With  a  cry  of  terror  he  turned  and  took  to  his 
heels;  but  Bowles  was  already  within  reach  of  him,  and 
before  our  hero  had  made  many  steps,  he  fastened  upon 
liis  collar  with  one  hand,  and  with  the  other  twisted  his 
rifle  out  of  his  grasp. 

"Let's  see  ye  slip  outen  yer  coat  an'  get  away  from 
me  this  time,"  said  Jack,  with  savage  exultation.  "  I've 
got  a  long  account  to  settle  with  ye,  my  lad.  I'll  larn 
ye  to  go  about  the  country  stealin'  money  an'  killin' 
•  honest  folks' huntin' dogs.  We'd  best  tie  him,  hadn't 
we,  Mr.  Mortimer,  fur  fear  that  he  gets  one  of  them  ar 
crazy  spells  onto  him?" 

11  Certainly,"  said  that  gentleman,  who,  having  by  this 
time  reached  the  top  of  the  bluff,  stepped  forward  to 
assist  in  securing  the  prisoner. 

"  An'  sarch  him,  too/'  added  Jack.  "He  may  have 
some  dangerous  we'pons  about  him.  Don't  go  to  makin' 
a  fuss  now." 

"  I  have  no  such  intention,"  replied  Julian,  who, 
knowing  that  he  was  powerless,  submitted  to  his  captors, 
who  bound  his  arms  firmly  behind  his  back.  "  But  I 
can  tell  you  one  thing,  Jack — you  and  Richard  Mortimer. 
You  are  not  going  to  take  me  down  the  rirer  and  put 
me  into  an  asylum." 

Mr.  Mortimer  was  profoundly  astonished  at  these 
words.  lie  looked  sharply  at  the  prisoner  for  a  moment 
and  exclaimed:  "Has  Sanders  been  here?" 


90  /     JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

"Sanders?"  repeated  Julian. 

"  Yes;  a  short,  thick-set  man,  dressed  in  black,  and 
wearing  an  abundance  of  jewelry." 

"  I  have  no  acquaintance  with  any  such  person/' 

"  But  you  do  not  say  that  you  have  not  seen  him. 
You  have  talked  with  him — I  am  certain  of  it — or  you 
would  not  know  that  my  name  is  Richard.  Sanders 
knows  why  I  am  here,  and  I  know  why  he  is  here  and 
who  sent  him.  We  are  both  playing  the  same  game, 
and  we  shall  see  who  will  win.  He  shall  never  take 
passage  on  that  flatboat." 

As  soon  as  Julian  had  been  securely  bound,  Jack  set 
himself  to  work  to  overhaul  his  pockets,  searching — not 
for  concealed  weapons,  but  for  the  money  belonging  to 
the  prisoner.  A  very  short  investigation,  however, 
served  to  satisfy  him  that  the  coveted  treasure  was  not 
hidden  about  Julian's  person,  and  with  an  expression  of 
almost  ungovernable  fury  on  his  face  he  left  him  and 
began  to  search  the  camp.  He  picked  up  the  prisoner's 
blankets,  shook  them  thoroughly,  threw  aside  the  leaves 
which  the  boy  had  scraped  together  to  serve  as  a  mat- 
tress, and  looked  into  every  hollow  stump  and  under 
every  log  on  the  bluff;  but  nothing  in  the  shape  of  a 
box  or  pocket-book  could  he  find. 

"  Whar  is  it  ?"  he  roared,  unable  to  contain  himself 
longer. 

'  Where's  what?"  asked  Julian. 
'  The  money,  ye  rascal — the  $145." 
'  I  haven't  got  as  much  as  that." 
'  Wai,  you've  got  some.     Whar  is  it,  I  axes  ye?" 
'  It  is  concealed  where  you  will  never  think  of  look- 
ing for  it,  and  there  it  shall  stay." 

"  I'll  bet  a  boss  that  it  don't  stay  thar,"  shouted  Jack, 
stamping  the  ground  and  shaking  his  fists  in  his  rage. 
"  Mark  my  words.  Afore  I'm  done  with  ye,  ye '11  come 
to  this  bluff  an*  give  me  that  money  with  yer  own 
hands." 

"And  mark  my  words,"  replied  Julian  calmly.  "I 
shall  do  nothing  of  the  kind.  I'll  die  first.  It  is  mine 
— you've  no  right  to  it,  and  you  shan't  have  it." 


JACK'S  PLANS.  91 

"  Never  mind  the  money  now,  Bowles,"  exclaimed 
Mr.  Mortimer,  who  was  becoming  impatient  at  the  de- 
lay. "You  will  have  plenty  of  time  to  hunt  for  it 
after  your  return  from  New  Orleans.  We  must  hegin 
our  journey  at  once." 

Jack,  reluctant  to  abandon  the  search,  took  another 
turn  about  the  camp,  and  after  venting  some  of  his  spite 
by  pulling  down  Julian's  brush  cabin  and  kicking 
over  the  squirrels  that  were  broiling  before  the  fire, 
picked  up  the  blankets  and  the  rifle,  and  seizing  the 
boy  roughly  by  the  arm  hurried  him  down  the  bluff. 
After  placing  him  behind  Mr.  Mortimer  on  his  horse  he 
disappeared  in  the  woods  and  presently  returned, 
mounted  on  his  own  nag,  and  led  the  way  toward  the 
clearing.  He  did  not  follow  the  road,  as  Julian  hoped 
he  would,  but  to  avoid  meeting  any  of  the  settlers,  held 
straight  through  the  Avoods.  He  was  moody  and  sul- 
len during  the  whole  of  the  ride,  and  the  deep  scowl  on 
his  forehead  showed  that  he  was  thinking  intently. 

"  The  minute  Julian  drops  overboard  from  the  flat- 
hoat,  that  minute  I  shall  have  $200  put  into  my  hands," 
soliloquized  Mr.  Bowles.  "  That's  a  monstrous  heap  of 
money  fur  a  poor  man  like  me,  but  I'd  like  to  have 
them  $145,  too.  Now  how  am  I  goin'  to  get  it?  That's 
what  I'd  like  to  know.  I'll  never  find  it  unless  Julian 
tells  me  whar  it  is,  an'  if  he's  at  the  bottom  of  the 
river  he  can't  tell  me.  Hain't  thar  no  way  fur  me  to 
push  him  overboard  without  drownin'  him?" 

Upon  this  question  Jack  pondered  long  and  deeply, 
and  by  the  time  he  and  his  companions  reached  the 
clearing  he  must  have  found  an  answer  to  it,  and  a  sat- 
factory  one,  too,  for  he  brightened  up  and  became  lively 
and  talkative. 

The  first  person  Julian  saw  when  he  reached  the 
clearing  was  the  stranger  in  broadcloth,  who  was  pacing 
up  and  down  the  bank.  He  did  not  look  up  when  the 
boy  and  his  captors  rode  past  him,  but  pulled  the  hand- 
kerchief a  little  closer  about  his  face,  and  sinking  his 
chin  lower  into  the  collar  of  his  coat,  kept  his  eyes  fast- 
ened upon  the  ground. 


92  / 1 'I.  I  A  JV  MOR  TIMER. 

"  If  you  are  all  ready  to  start,  Jack/'  said  Mr.  Morti- 
mer, as  they  drew  rein  in  front  of  the  door  of  the 
cabin,  where  Mrs.  Bowles  and  her  sons  were  waiting  to 
receive  them,  "we  Avill  go  on  board  the  flatboat  at 
once." 

"  Wai,  I  hain't  quite  ready/'  returned  Jack.  "  I 
shall  be  away  from  home  a  long  time  if  we  go  to  New 
Orleans,  an'  Jake  and  Tom'll  have  to  look  out  fur 
things  while  I  am  gone.  I  want  to  tell  'em  what  to 
do." 

"  Your  wife  can  do  that  as  well  as  you  can,"  replied 
Mr.  Mortimer  impatiently. 

"An'  more'n  that,"  continued  Jack,  holding  open  his 
coat  to  let  his  guest  see  that  it  was  in  a  very  dilapidated 
condition,  "I've  got  to  have  some  clothes,  if  I'm  goin' 
to  a  country  whar  white  folks  live.  I  don't  want  to 
make  ye  ashamed  of  me." 

"  You  have  nothing  to  fear  on  that  score.  Your 
clothes  will  do  well  enough." 

"  But  I  say  they  won't.  I  was  born  and  raised  a  gen- 
tleman, /  was,  and  I  guess  I  know  what  sort  of  riggin' 
a  gentleman  had  oughter  wear  when  he  goes  a  visitin'." 

"  I  don't  want  to  wait  another  minute.  Don't  you 
know  that  we  are  in  danger  as  long  as  we  remain  here? 
Suppose  some  of  the  settlers  should  find  out  what  is 
going  on?" 

"Oh,  now,  how  be  they  goin'  to  find  it  out?  We 
hain't  a  goin'  to  tell  on  ourselves,  be  we?" 

"  But  the  captain  wants  to  start  immediately,"  per- 
sisted Mr.  Mortimer. 

"  I  can't  help  that.  I  shan't  be  ready  for  an  hour  or 
two — p'raps  more;  'cause  I've  got  to  go  to  The  Corners 
arter  gome  good  clothes." 

"  Then  you  may  stay  there,  if  you  choose.  I  can 
get  along  without  your  assistance." 

"  No  ye  can't,  an'  ye  shan't,  nuther,"  retorted  Jack. 

"  I  shall  go  without  you,"  continued  Mr.  Mortimer, 
decidedly.  "Then  what  will  become  of  the  $200  I 
promised  you  ?" 

Jack  approached  his  guest  and  placed  his  lips  close  to 
his  ear. 


JACK'S  PLANS.  93 

"  If  ye  go  without  me  I'll  have  the  officers  of  the  law 
on  yer  track  in  less'n  an  hour/'  said  he,  fiercely.  "Then 
what  will  become  of  ye  ?  I  can  say,  ye  know,  that  ye 
offered  me  money  to  shove  the  boy  overboard,  an'  p'raps 
ye'll  have  to  tell  some  things  ye'd  rather  the  world 
wouldn't  know.  Ye've  got  money,  an'  ye  can  keep  the 
boat  here  as  long  as  ye  please."  Then  aloud  he  added: 
"Ye  an'  Julian  can  step  into  the  house, an' sit  down  an' 
talk  to  the  ole  woman,  an'  me  an'  the  boys  will  go  to 
the  stable  an'  feed  the  hosses.  I'll  be  back  as  soon  as  I 
get  my  business  done." 

Mr.  Mortimer,  finding  that  he  was  at  the  mercy  of 
his  confederate,  was  obliged  to  await  his  pleasure.  He 
conducted  his  prisoner  into  the  cabin,  while  Jack  led 
the  horses  toward  the  stable,  followed  by  Jake  and  Tom. 

The  boys  assisted  their  father  in  removing  the  saddles 
and  feeding  the  animals,  and  when  this  had  been  done, 
Jack  conducted  them  into  one  of  the  cribs,  and  after 
closing  and  fastening  the  door,  seated  himself  upon  the 
corn  and  proceeded  to  make  his  sons  acquainted  with 
certain  plans  he  had  determined  upon. 

He  did  not  know  that  some  one  besides  Jake  and  Tom 
was  listening  to  every  word  he  said,  but  such  was  the 
fact.  It  was  Sanders,  who  having  overheard  enough  of 
Jack's  conversation  with  Mr.  Mortimer  to  excite  his  cu- 
riosity, and  seeing  Bowles  and  his  sons  enter  the  crib 
and  shut  themselves  in,  made  a  circuit  through  the 
woods,  and  came  up  within  hearing  of  their  voices 
in  time  to  learn  as  much  of  their  scheme  as  he  cared  to 
know. 

"  I  reckon  Mr.  Mortimer  will  get  tired  of  waitin'  fur 
me,"  said  Jack,  "'cause  he  hain't  no  ways  likely  to  see 
me  agin  afore  dark.  I've  got  work  fur  ye  to  do,  young- 
sters, an'  if  ye  do  it  as  I  tell  ye  to,  there's  money  to  be 
made  by  it.  Listen,  now,  with  all  the  ears  you've  got. 
In  the  fust  place,  in  order  that  ye  may  understand  the 
hul  matter,  I  must  tell  ye  that  this  Mr.  Mortimer  is  the 
same  feller  who  brought  Julian  here  years  ago.  He's 
some  kin  to  him — his  pap,  mebbe,  fur  all  I  know — but 
he  don't  want  to  own  him,  'cause  the  boy  somehow 


94  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

stands  atween  him  an'  a  fortin'.  He  wants  to  put  him 
whar  he'll  never  see  him  agin,  an'  so  me  an'  him  have 
give  out  that  he  is  crazy,  an'  that  we're  goin'  to  take 
him  to  Orleans  an'  put  him  in  a  'sylum.  In  course,  he 
hain't  no  more  outen  his  head  than  I  be,  but  that's  no 
business  of  mine.  Mr.  Mortimer's  goin'  to  start  down 
the  river  with  him  to-night,  an'  I'm  goin'  along  to  take 
care  of  him." 

Jack  did  not  see  fit  to  tell  his  boys  that  Mr.  Mortimer 
had  offered  him  money  to  push  Julian  overboard,  and 
that  he  had  promised  to  do  it.  That  was  a  dangerous 
secret,  and  one  that  he  did  not  care  to  trust  to  any- 
body's keeping. 

' '  I  shall  get  $200  fur  makin'  the  trip,"  continued 
Jack.  "Now,  I  want  to  earn  them  thar  two  hun- 
dred, but  I  don't  want  Julian  to  be  tuk  to  New 
Orleans  an'  shut  up  thar,  'cause  if  he  is,  we'll  lose 
jest  $145  by  it — the  hundred  he  stole  from  ye  last 
night,  Jake,  an'  the  forty-five  he  made  this  mornin' 
outen  his  mink  skins.  He's  hid  the  money,  an' 
I  want  to  get  a  chance  to  make  him  tell  whar  it  is;  an' 
this  is  the  way  I'm  goin'  to  work  it.  As  soon  as  it  comes 
dark,  ye,  Jake  an'  Tom,  must  get  into  the  dug-out  an' 
drop  down  the  river  in  it,  as  easy  as  ye  can,  tie  it  to  the 
starn  of  the  flatboat,  an'  then  lay  down  on  the  bottom 
an'  keep  still  thar.  Be  sure  an'  make  it  fast  with  a 
short  rope,  so  as  to  keep  outen  the  way  of  the  sweeps. 
When  ye've  done  that  I  will  go  up  to  the  house,  an'  me 
an'  Mr.  Mortimer  an'  Julian  will  go  on  board  the  flat- 
boat,  an'  she'll  put  out  into  the  river,  draggin'  the  dug- 
out arter  her.  When  Mr.  Mortimer  an'  most  of  the  crew 
have  gone  to  bed,  I'll  untie  Julian  an'  take  him  up  fur 
a  turn  about  the  deck.  I'll  give  him  all  the  chance  he 
wants  to  get  away,  an'  he  will  be  sartin  to  use  it.  He 
said  that  we  shouldn't  never  take  him  down  the  river; 
an'  bein'  perfectly  at  home  in  the  water,  he  won't  mind 
jumpin'  overboard  and  swimmin'  ashore.  As  soon  as  I 
see  him  in  the  water  I'll  whistle,  an'  ye  must  cut  loose 
from  the  flatboat  an'  pick  him  up.  Be  as  easy  as  ye  can 
about  it,  an'  when  ye  onct  get  hold  of  him  hang  on,  no 


JAWS  PLANS.  95 

matter  what  happens;  tie  him  hard  an*  fast,  an'  bring 
him  hum  an'  put  him  in  the  smoke-house  till  I  come. 
I'll  I)e  along  some  time  to-morrer,  'cause  when  Mr.  Mor- 
timer finds  out  that  Julian  is  overboard  he'll  think  he's 
drownded,  an'  he'll  pay  me  off  an'  discharge  me.  Arter 
I  get  hold  of  Julian,  it  won't  take  me  long  to  make  him 
tell  whar  he's  hid  them  hundred  an'  forty-five  dollars. 
When  I  get  that  an'  the  two  hundred  I'll  be  rich." 

"  But,  pap,  how  much  be  me  an'  Tom  goin'  to  git  fur 
doin'  the  job?"  asked  Juke. 

"  Ye'll  git  enough  to  satisfy  ye,"  was  the  reply.  ' '  Jake 
shall  have  Julian's  rille  fur  his  share.  It's  a  good  one, 
an'  didn't  cost  a  cent  less'n  $25.  Tom  shall  have  his 
blankets,  which  he  can  sell  at  The  Corners  if  he  don't 
want  to  keep  'em,  an'  the  clothes  Julian's  got  on.  Tom 
thinks  a  heap  of  good  clothes,  an'  that  shows  that  he's 
goin'  to  be  a  gentleman  when  he's  growed  up.  An' 
more'ii  that,  if  I  find  Julian  here  when  I  come  hum, 
I'll  give  each  of  ye  $10;  but  if  he  hain't  here,  ye  shan't 
have  nothin'  but  the  dog-gondest  wallopin'  ye  ever  heern 
tell  on,  an'  ye'll  get  that  as  sartin  as  ye're  a  foot  high. 
It'll  be  wusser'n  all  the  rest  I  ever  give  ye  biled  down 
into  one.  Now,  be  ye  sure  that  ye  know  jest  what  ye've 
got  to  do?" 

Jake  and  Tom  were  not  quite  certain  that  they  did, 
and  so  their  father  repeated  his  instructions,  and  kept 
on  repeating  them  until  the  boys  thoroughly  understood 
them. 

Every  part  of  the  work  they  were  expected  to  per- 
form, as  well  as  the  treatment  Julian  was  to  receive  prior 
to  Jack's  return,  was  discussed,  and  the  latter  being  sat- 
isfied at  last  that  there  was  no  danger  of  failure,  an- 
nounced that  it  was  his  intention  to  pass  the  rest  of  the 
afternoon  in  sleep.  He  instructed  Jake  to  return  to  the 
house  and  announce  that  his  father  had  just  set  out  for 
The  Corners  on  horseback,  and  then  concealed  himself 
among  the  corn  at  the  farther  end  of  the  crib,  while  his 
boys,  after  making  sure  that  there  was  no  one  in  sight, 
opened  the  door  and  went  out.  No  sooner  had  they  en- 
tered the  cabin  than  Sanders  left  his  position  behind 


96  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

the  crib,  made  another  circuit  through  the  woods  back 
to  the  bank  of  the  river,  and  once  more  began  walking 
up  and  down,  now  and  then  shaking  his  head  and  chuck- 
ling to  himself  as  if  he  were  thinking  about  something 
that  afforded  him  great  satisfaction. 


CHAPTER    XII. 

OX    150AKD   THE   FLATBOAT. 

AP!  I  say,  pap!  be  ye  goin'  to  sleep  here  till 
creation  comes?  It's  pitch  dark,  an'  me  an' 
Tom  have  got  the  dug-out  tied  fast  to  the  flat- 

bout,  like  ye  told  us,  an'  the  cap'n's  jest  been 

in  the  house   a  tellin'  of  Mr.  Mortimer  that  he  ain't 
a-goin'  to  wait  no  longer.     Get  up,  consarn  it  all." 

It  was  Jake  Bowles  who  spoke,  and  while  he  was  thus 
addressing  his  slumbering  parent  he  was  shaking  him 
most  vigorously.  Jack  opened  his  eyes  at  last,  and  after 
yawning  and  stretching  his  arms,  and  listening  to  what 
his  hopeful  son  had  to  say  about  the  dug-out  and  the  cap- 
tain's impatience,  he  began  to  understand  the  matter. 

"All  right,"  lie  replied,  drowsily.  "Now,  Jake,  I 
want  to  be  sartin'  that  ye  know  what  ye've  got  to  do. 
Let  mo  hear  ye  go  over  what  I  said  to  ye  this  mornin'." 

Jake  began  and  rehearsed  his  instructions,  and  went 
through  with  them  to  his  father's  entire  satisfaction. 
When  he  had  concluded  Jack  inquired: 

"  What  did  I  say  I'd  give  ye  if  ye  brought  Julian  back 
here  a  prisoner?" 

"Oh,  I  hain't  forgot  that,  I  bet  ye,"  replied  Jake, 
quickly.  "  Ye  said  ye'd  give  me  his  rille  an'  $10. 
Don't  ye  forget  it,  pap,  when  ye  comes  back." 

"  I  won't.  I'm  a  man  what  allers  sticks  to  hig  word. 
Now  let  me  see  if  ye  remember  something  else.  What 
did  I  say  I'd  give  ye  an'  Tom  if  ye  let  him  get  away 
from  ye?" 

"A  larrupin'." 

"  A  little  one  or  a  big  one?" 

"A  big  one — wusser  than  all  the  rest." 

"  I'm  powerful  glad  to  see  that  ye  hain't  forgot  it.  I'll 
allers  keep  my  promises,  I  told  ye.  Mind  what  ye  are 
about,  now." 


98  JULIAN  MOR  TIMER. 

Having  thus  cautioned  his  young  ally,  Jack  staggered 
to  his  feet  and  walked  slowly  toward  the  house,  where 
he  found  Mr.  Mortimer  pacing  the  floor  in  great  excite- 
ment. The  captain  of  the  flat  boat  had  just  left  him, 
with  the  information  that  if  Jack  did  not  return  in  half 
an  hour  he  would  be  obliged  to  start  without  him,  for 
he  could  wait  no  longer. 

"  You  have  come  at  last,  have  you?"  was  Mi\  Morti- 
mer's greeting. 

"Hain't  you  got  a  pair  of  good  eyes?  In  course,  I 
have. " 

"  I  should  say  it  was  a  high  time.  And  you  haven't 
got  your  clothes,  either." 

"Wai,  that  ain't  no  fault  of  mine,  is  it?  I  forgot  to 
ax  ye  fur  some  money  to  git  'em  with,  an'  the  store- 
keeper wouldn't  trust  me.  I'm  all  ready  now,  if  you 
are." 

"  Then  take  charge  of  Julian  and  bring  hiwi  on  board 
the  boat  at  once.  Remember  that  I  want  him  kept  out 
of  my  sight  as  much  as  possible." 

"  I  give  ye  the  word  of  a  gentleman  that  he  shan't 
never  trouble  ye  no  more,"  replied  Jack  significantly. 

Mr.  Mortimer  hurried  out  of  the  cabin,  damming  the 
door  after  him.  As  he  sprung  upon  the  dock  of  the  flat- 
boat  he  was  met  by  the  captain,  who  was  impatiently 
awaiting  his  appearance. 

"  We  are  ready  at  last,"  said  the  passenger,  "  and  the 
sooner  you  get  under  way  the  better  it  \vill  suit  me." 

"  Stand  by  the  lines,"  shouted  the  cup  tain. 

"Where's  that  man?"  continued  Mr.  Mortimer. 

His  companion  pointed  toward  the  bow  of  the  boat. 
Mr.  Mortimer  looked  and  saw  Sanders  pacing  back  and 
forth  as  wide  awake  as  ever. 

"  He  must  be  made  of  iron,"  said  the  skipper,  "for 
he  has  kept  up  that  walk  ever  since  we  landed  here  this 
morning,"  and  shows  no  sign  of  giving  out." 

"  There  is  nothing  strange  in  that.  He  is  working 
for  money,  and  wants  to  be  where  he  can  see  everything 
that  is  going  on.  Have  you  told  him  that  he  can  not  go 
down  the  river  with  us?" 


ON  BOARD   THE  FLA  TBOA  T.  99 

"Not  yet/' 

"Then  do  it  at  once.  Use  every  argument  yon  can 
think  of  to  induce  him  to  go  ashore,  and  if  you  can  not 
make  him  listen  to  reason  call  your  crew  and  put  him 
off." 

Mr.  Mortimer  descended  the  stairs  leading  into  a  little 
dismal  apartment  in  the  stern  of  the  boat  that  was 
dignified  by  the  name  of  "the  cabin,"  and  the  captain 
approached  his  passenger,  and  extending  a  roll  of  bills, 
said : 

"  I'm  sorry  to  be  obliged  to  say  that  I  can't  take  you 
to  Orleans." 

"Slio!"  exclaimed  Sanders. 

"  It's  a  fact.  My  cabin  has  been  given  up  to  a  crazy 
boy  and  his  keepers,  and  I  can't  accommodate  you. 
Here's  the  passage  money  you  paid  me." 

"  I  don't  want  it.     A  bargain's  a  bargain." 

"  I  tell  you  that  I  can't  take  you." 

"  0,  I  hain't  no  ways  particl'ar  as  to  commodation.  I 
can  hang  up  anywhar." 

"  But  I  don't  want  you  on  board  my  boat,  and  you 
shan't  stay  either.  Here's  your  money.  Take  it  and  go 
ashore." 

"  Now  jest  listen  to  me  a  minute,  cap'n,  and  I'll  tell 
you  something,"  replied  Sanders,  approaching  the 
skipper  and  speaking  in  a  low,  confidential  tone.  The 
latter,  believing  that  his  passenger  was  about  to  com- 
municate some  secret  to  him,  leaned  forward  and  caught 
the  words:  "  I  shan't  stir  a  peg." 

"  Then  I  shall  use  force,"  cried  the  captain  in  a  rage. 
"I  shall  put  you  off." 

At  the  mention  of  the  word  "force  "  all  the  combative- 
ness  in  the  stranger's  composition  arose  and  showed 
itself.  His  eyes  flashed  angrily,  and  doubling  up  ono 
huge  fist  he  brought  it  down  into  the  palm  of  his  hand 
with  a  report  like  that  of  a  pistol. 

"  Look  a  here,  cap'n,"  said  he,  with  a  great  deal  of 
emphasis,  "my  name  is — Jones." 

He  had  been  on  the  point  of  pronouncing  his  own  name 
— one  that  had  more  than  once  struck  terror  to  a  braver 


100  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

heart  than  the  captain  of  the  flatboat  possessed — but 
recollected  himself  in  time,  and  gave  the  first  one  that 
came  to  his  mind. 

"  Yes,  that's  my  name/'  he  exclaimed,  after  a  mo- 
ment's pause — "  Jones — Tom  Jones.  I'm  the  peace- 
ablest  feller  you  ever  seed  when  I  ain't  crossed,  but  when 
I  am  I'm  a  leetle  wusser  than  a  hul  passel  of  wild-cats. 
I  can  see  through  a  grindstun  as  fur  as  the  next  man. 
I  know  why  you  don't  want  me  here,  but  I'm  agoin'  to 
stay,  I  can  tell  you,  an'  if  you  want  to  see  bullets  fly 
faster  than  you  ever  seed  'em  fly  afore,  jest  tell  your 
crew  to  put  me  off." 

As  Sanders  said  this  he  placed  his  hands  in  the  pock- 
ets of  his  coat,  and  when  he  brought  them  into  view 
again,  he  held  in  each  one  a  navy  revolver.  After 
flourishing  them  before  the  eyes  of  the  captain  he  put 
them  away  again,  and  locking  his  thumbs  in  the  arm- 
holes  of  his  vest,  resumed  his  walk  up  and  down  the 
deck.  While  this  conversation  was  going  on  the  crew 
had  been  busy  casting  off  the  lines  with  which  the  flat- 
boat  was  made  fast  to  the  bank,  and  now  one  of  them 
sung  out:  "All  gone,  sir." 

The  captain  turned,  and  seeing  that  Mr.  Bowles  and 
Julian  had  just  come  on  board,  and  knowing  that  it 
would  be  useless  to  make  any  more  attempts  to  rid  him- 
self of  his  objectionable  passenger,  gave  orders  to  get 
under  way. 

"  Haul  in  that  gang-plank,"  said  he.  "  Get  out  the 
setting-poles  and  shove  off  for'ard.  Man  the  larboard 
sweeps,  and  pull  her  bow  out." 

While  the  crew  were  busy  working  the  boat  out  into 
the  river,  Mr.  Bowles  took  occasion  to  stroll  aft  and 
look  over  into  the  water.  It  was  very  dark,  but  still 
there  was  light  enough  for  him  to  distinguish  the  out- 
lines of  the  dug-out  dragging  at  the  stern  of  the  flat- 
boat.  So  far  his  plans  were  working  smoothly.  His 
only  fear  was  that  the  canoe  might  be  discovered  by  the 
pilot;  but,  after  all,  there  was  little  danger  of  it,  for 
that  officer,  beside  being  obliged  to  give  his  whole  at- 
tention to  directing  the  course  of  the  boat,  occupied  a 


ON  BOARD  THE  FLA  TBOA  T.  1Q1 

position  so  far  from  the  stern  that  he  could  not  look 
over  into  the  water,  even  if  he  had  been  disposed  to 
do  so.  Jac£  took  off  his  hat  and  nourished  it  about  his 
head,  and  instantly  another  hat  was  thrust  over  the 
side  of  the  dug-out,  and  being  moved  to  and  fro  was 
pulled  back  oat  of  sight.  Jake  and  Torn  were  on  the 
alert,  and  Mr.  Bowles,  being  satisfied  of  the  fact,  re- 
turned to  his  prisoner  and  conducted  him  into  the 
cabin. 

Julian  took  the  seat  pointed  out  to  him,  and  looked 
around  with  curiosity.  Tbe  cabin  was  a  very  dingy 
apartment,  and  was  dimly  lighted  by  a  smoky  lantern, 
which  hung  suspended  from  a  beam  overhead.  It  con- 
tained a  rusty  cooking  stove,  a  rough  table,  around 
Avhich  were  arranged  four  long  benches  to  serve  in  lieu 
of  chairs,  and  two  sides  were  occupied  by  bunks  in 
Avhich  the  crew  slept. 

One  of  them,  a  little  apart  from  the  others,  was  pro- 
vided with  curtains,  which,  being  looped  back,  revealed 
a  very  comfortable-looking  bed,  that  was  doubtless  in- 
tended for  Mr.  Mortimer.  Tbe  latter  gentleman  had 
nothing  to  say  to  Mr.  Bowles  when  he  came  in,  but  con- 
tinued his  walk  in  silence. 

Jack  took  a  turn  about  the  cabin,  and  then  seating 
himself  in  a  chair  near  his  prisoner,  folded  his  arms, 
rested  his  chin  on  his  breast,  and  closed  his  eyes  as  if 
preparing  to  go  to  sleep. 

Being  heavily  loaded  and  short-handed  besides,  con- 
siderable time  was  consumed  in  working  the  flatboat 
out  into  the  river;  but  at  the  end  of  half  an  hour  a 
gentle,  gliding  motion,  accompanied  by  the  "lapping" 
sound  of  the  waves  against  her  sides,  told  Julian  that 
she  was  fairly  under  way. 

Presently  the  captain  came  below,  followed  by  some 
of  bis  crew.  Tbe  men  looked  curiously  at  the  passen- 
gers, especially  at  Julian,  who  sat  in  his  chair  with,  his 
hands  tied  behind  his  back,  and  without  any  ceremony 
divested  themselves  of  some  of  their  outer  clothing  and 
tumbled  into  bed. 

The  captain,  after  pointing  out  to  his  passengers  the 


102  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

beds  he  had  arranged  for  them,  followed  their  example, 
and  presently  Mr.  Mortimer  also  sought  his  couch. 

Julian,  almost  worn  down  by  fatigue  and  excitement, 
waited  impatiently  for  Jack  to  give  the  signal  for  retir- 
ing, but  the  latter  had  no  intention  of  doing  anything 
of  the  kind.  He  waited  until  the  sounds  which  issued 
from  the  bunks  told  him  that  their  occupants  were  all 
asleep,  and  then  he  beckoned  Julian  to  follow  him  to 
the  deck.  A  terrible  fear  seized  upon  the  boy  as  he 
arose  to  obey.  Was  Jack  about  to  throw  him  over- 
board? 

He  tottered  up  the  stairs,  and  when  he  reached  the  deck, 
was  astonished  beyond  measure  and  immensely  relieved 
by  an  unexpected  proceeding  on  the  part  of  his  keeper, 
who,  instead  of  conducting  him  to  the  side  and  pitching 
him  into  the  water,  began  untying  his  hands. 

"What  in  the  world  does  he  mean,  I  wonder?" 
thought  Julian.  "  Does  he  expect  me  to  remain  on 
board  this  boat  if  he  gives  me  the  least  chance  to  leave 
it?  If  he  takes  his  eyes  off  me  for  one  instant  I'll 
astonish  him." 

"What  are  you  untying  that  crazy  fellow  for?"  ex- 
claimed the  pilot,  who  stood  with  his  hand  resting  on 
one  of  the  sweeps  which  served  as  the  rudders  of  the 
flatboat.  "  The  cap'n  says  he's  dangerous." 

"An'  so  he  is,"  replied  Jack — "  in  the  day-time;  but 
at  night  he's  as  gentle  as  a  kitten.  I'm  goin'  to  let  him 
take  a  leetle  exercise  afore  he  goes  to  bed.  He'll  sleep 
the  better  fur  it.  Ye  needn't  be  afeared,  'cause  I  can 
manage  him.  Mind  what  ye're  about  now,"  he  added 
in  a  low  tone,  addressing  himself  to  Julian.  "  I've  got 
my  eyes  onto  ye." 

Jack  Avalked  aft  to  talk  to  the  pilot,  and  Julian,  de- 
lighted to  find  himself  once  more  at  liberty,  strolled 
leisurely  about  the  boat. 

The  crew  on  watch  were  huddled  together  in  the 
waist,  and  at  a  little  distance  from  them,  Sanders  lay 
stretched  out  on  the  deck,  apparently  fast  asleep. 
Julian  walked  past  the  prostrate  forms,  and  taking  his 
stand  on  the  bow,  gazed  toward  the  shore.  Half  the 


ON  BOARD   THE  FLATS  OAT.  103 

width  of  the  Missouri  River  lay  between  him  and  his 
freedom. 

"  I  can  easily  do  it,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  and  I  am 
going  to  try  it.  Good-by,  Jack.  When  I  set  my 
feet  on  solid  ground  once  more  I  will  put  a  safe  distance 
between  you  and  me  before  I  stop." 

Julian  seated  himself  on  the  side  of  the  boat  and 
looked  down  into  the  dark,  muddy  water,  now  and  then 
turning  his  eyes  toward  Jack  and  the  pilot.  The  former 
kept  his  back  toward  him  and  his  gaze  turned  up  the 
river,  as  if  he  saw  something  there  that  interested  him, 
and  finally  the  pilot,  in  response  to  some  inquiry  from 
Jack,  faced  about  and  looked  in  the  same  direction. 
This  was  Julian's  opportunity,  and  he  was  prompt  to 
seize  upon  it.  Placing  his  hands  upon  the  side  of  the 
boat  he  swung  himself  off  and  dropped  into  the  river. 

His  sudden  immersion  in  the  cold  water  almost  took 
his  breath  away,  and  for  a  moment  he  felt  as  if  every 
drop  of  blood  in  his  body  had  been  turned  into  ice;  but 
quickly  recovering  himself  he  struck  out  lustily  for  the 
shore. 

There  were  two  persons  on  board  Avho  had  witnessed 
the  whole  proceeding.  One  was  Sanders,  who  was  wide 
awake,  in  spite  of  the  terrific  snores  he  uttered,  and  the 
other  was  Jack  Bowles. 

80  delighted  was  Jack  at  the  success  that  had  thus 
far  attended  his  plans  that  he  could  scarcely  refrain 
from  shouting. 

Fearing  that  the  pilot,  if  he  had  not  also  witnessed 
Julian's  act,  might  soon  notice  his  absence,  he  looked 
about  for  something  to  occupy  his  attention,  and 
found  it. 

"  I  see  a  snag/'  said  he  suddenly.  "  Look  out,  or  ye'll 
be  afoul  of  it  in  a  minute." 

"I  sec  it,  too/'  replied  the  pilot.  "  I  was  so  busy  talk- 
ing to  you  that  I  forgot  to  attend  to  my  business.  Snag 
on  the  starboard  bow!"  he  shouted.  "  Man  the  sweeps, 
all  hands!" 

The  crew  jumped  at  the  word,  and  Jack  sprung  down 
from  the  pilot's  bench  and  walked  aft  whistling.  Jake 


104  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

and  Tom,  who  were  curled  up  in  the  bottom  of  the  dug- 
out, heard  and  obeyed  the  signal.  They  straightened 
up  at  once,  and  while  one  seized  a  paddle  the  other  cut 
the  painter  with  which  the  canoe  was  made  fast  to  the 
flatboat,  and  in  a  moment  more  they  were  out  of  sight. 
Jack  stood  on  the  stern  of  the  boat  listening  intently  for 
fully  five  minutes,  and  then  he  was  almost  certain  that 
he  heard  a  splashing  in  the  water  and  a  smothered  cry 
for  help. 

"They've  got  him!"  said  he  gleefully.  "I  was 
afeared  they  might  miss  him  in  the  dark.  If  they  had, 
wouldn't  I  have  dusted  their  jackets  fur  them,  though? 
But  they're  good  boys,  Jake  an'  Tom  are.  The  two  hun- 
dred dollars  are  mine,  an'  the  hundred  an'  forty-five  be- 
sides." 

By  this  time  the  snag  had  been  passed  in  safety,  and 
the  watch  once  more  huddled  together  in  the  waist  to 
sleep  until  their  services  were  again  required.  Jack  took 
his  stand  beside  the  pilot,  and  waited  for  him  to  say 
something  about  Julian's  disappearance;  but  as  he  did 
not  refer  to  the  matter,  Mr.  Bowles  went  below  and 
tumbled  into  bed,  satisfied  that  no  one  beside  himself 
was  the  wiser  for  what  had  happened. 

Jack  awoke  long  before  daylight,  but  remained  quiet 
in  his  bunk,  awaiting  a  favorable  opportunity  to  carry 
out  the  rest  of  his  plans.  At  last  the  cook  entered  the 
cabin  and  began  preparations  for  breakfast.  Shortly 
afterward  some  of  the  crew  crawled  out  of  their  bunks, 
and  the  captain  also  arose.  When  Jack  saw  him  he  be- 
gan to  bestir  himself.  He  got  out  upon  the  floor,  and 
after  dressing  himself  with  great  deliberation,  went  to 
the  bunk  which  had  been  set  apart  for  Julian's  use. 
The  bed  certainly  looked  as  if  it  had  been  occupied, 
but  there  was  no  one  in  it  now.  Jack  started  back  with 
well-assumed  surprise,  uttering  an  exclamation  that 
attracted  the  attention  of  every  one  in  the  cabin,  and 
then  rushing  forward  picked  up  something  and  exam- 
ined it  attentively.  It  was  the  rope  with  which  Julian 
had  been  bound. 

"  Wai,  if  this  yere  don't  beat  all  natur',"  cried  Jack, 


ON  BOARD  THE  FLA  TBOA  T.  1Q5 

"  Is  he  loose  ? ''  asked  the  captain  in  alarm. 

"That's  jest  what's  the  matter.  He's  slipped  his 
hands  outen  this  rope  and  hid  hisself  somewhars.  Help 
me  find  him,  fellers,"  added  Jack,  in  great  excitement, 
leading  the  way  toward  the  deck;  "but  look  out  fur 
yerselves,  'cause  if  any  of  ye  had  any  we'pons  he's  found 
'em,  an'  he'll  use  'em,  too." 

A  slight  rustling  among  the  bed-clothes  behind  the 
curtain  which  concealed  the  bunk  in  which  Mr.  Morti- 
mer lay,  proved  that  that  gentleman  Avas  awake  and  lis- 
tening to  all  that  was  going  on.  Jack  heard  the  noise 
and  noticed  the  movements  of  the  occupant  of  the  bunk, 
but  the  captain  and  his  men  did  not.  They  were  too 
busy  with  thoughts  of  the  dangerous  lunatic,  whom 
they  must  assist  in  securing,  to  hear  or  see  anything. 
They  followed  Jack  to  the  deck,  and  during  the  next 
quarter  of  an  hour  the  greatest  confusion  prevailed  on 
board  the  flatboat. 

Mr.  Bowles  that  morning  earned  the  reputation  of 
being  a  very  courageous  man  ;  for  while  he  continually 
cautioned  the  crew  to  beware  of  the  fire-arms  of  which 
he  was  sure  his  escaped  prisoner  had  obtained  possession, 
he  exposed  himself  most  recklessly,  being  everywhere 
foremost  in  the  search,  and  advancing  boldly  into  the 
darkest  corners  of  the  hold,  where  no  one  else  dared 
to  venture.  Every  part  of  the  boat  was  thoroughly 
searched,  but  no  Julian  was  found;  and  Jack  and  the 
captain,  after  talking  the  matter  over,  were  obliged  to 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  he  had  put  an  end  to  his 
life  by  jumping  overboard. 

The  next  thing  was  to  inform  Mr.  Mortimer — who 
Jack  said  was  some  distant  relative  of  the  unfortunate 
youth — of  the  melancholy  fact;  but  that  gentleman  had 
already  learned  the  particulars  from  one  of  the  crew, 
and  had  also  made  a  most  disagreeable  discovery.  Jack 
found  him  on  deck,  and  when  his  eyes  rested  on  him  he 
stopped  and  gazed  at  him  in  surprise. 

Mr.  Mortimer's  serious  air  might  have  been  put  on 
for  the  occasion,  Bowles  told  himself,  but  lie  never  could 
have  assumed  that  pale  face.  Something  was  the  matter 


106  JULIAN  MORTIMER, 

with  him.  He  listened  in  silence  while  Jack  and  the 
captain  told  him  of  Julian's  mysterious  disappearance,, 
and  when  they  ceased  speaking  he  walked  off  to  an  un- 
occupied part  of  the  deck. 

The  captain  presently  went  down  into  his  cabin  and 
Jack  joined  Mr.  Mortimer. 

"  Where  is  he?  "  asked  the  latter  in  a  low  whisper. 

"At  the  bottom  of  the  river,"  replied  Jack  in  the 
same  cautious  tone.  "  He  was  standin'  right  there,  jest 
this  way,"  he  added,  stepping  close  to  the  side  of  the 
boat,  "with  his  hands  tied  behind  him,  an'  I  come  up 
an'  give  him  a  leetle  nudge  with  my  shoulder  an'  over 
he  went.  Nobody  didn't  see  me  do  it,  either." 

"I  don't  care  to  know  how  it  was  done,"  interrupted 
Mr.  Mortimer  hastily.  "I  only  want  to  be  sure  that  it 
was  done,  and  effectually." 

"It  sartinly  was.  He  couldn't  swim  fur  with  his 
hands  tied,  conld  he?" 

"  No;  but  he  might  have  been  picked  up.  Have  you 
Been  Sanders  this  morning?" 

"I  hain't,"  replied  Jack,  looking  about  the  deck, 
while  an  expression  of  anxiety  settled  on  his  face.  "He 
wouldn't  save  him,  would  he?" 

"Of  course  he  would,  if  he  got  the  opportunity.  If 
he  could  take  that  boy  to  a  certain  man  whose  name  I 
could  mention  he  would  make  more  money  by  it  than 
he  ever  saw.  He  is  working  against  me." 

"  Wai,  he  didn't  pick  him  up.  I  was  on  deck  fur  ten 
minutes  arter  Julian  went  overboard,  an'  I  didn't  see 
him  at  all.  Mebbe  he's  about  somewhars." 

"No,  he  isn't.  He's  gone;  and  so  is  the  yawl  belong- 
ing to  the  flatboat." 

Jack  started,  and  folding  his  arms  gazed  thoughtfully 
over  the  side  into  the  water.  Although  he  had  not  no- 
ticed the  circumstance  at  the  time,  he  now  remembered 
that  on  the  preceding  day  Sanders  had  kept  as  close  as 
possible  to  him  and  Mr.  Mortimer,  and  that  he  had 
more  than  once  paused  in  his  walk  as  if  he  were  listen- 
ing to  their  conversation. 

Might  he  not  by  some  means  have  become  acquainted 


ON  BOARD  THE  FLA  TBOA  T.  1Q7 

with,  his  plans,  and  set  himself  to  work  to  defeat  them? 
And  if  Julian  was  so  valuable  to  him,  might  he  not  have 
followed  Jake  and  Tom  in  the  yawl  with  the  intention 
of  securing  their  prisoner?  The  thought  was  enough  to 
put.  Jack  on  nettles. 

"  Whar's  them  two  hundred?"  he  asked,  suddenly. 

Mr.  Mortimer,  putting  his  hand  into  his  pocket,  pro- 
duced a  roll  of  bills,  which  he  slyly  handed  to  his  con- 
federate, and  Jack  continued: 

"  I  can't  be  of  no  more  use  here,  an'  you  might  as  well 
tell  the  cap'"n  to  set  me  ashore." 

"  I  will.  I  want  to  go  myself.  I  am  uneasy  about 
that  man  Sanders.  Here  comes  the  captain  now." 

"  I  shall  have  to  land  to  do  it,"  said  the  skipper,  after 
listening  to  the  request  of  his  passenger,  "  for  I  have  no 
boat  to  send  you  off  in.  That  strange-looking  man  in 
black  has  deserted  us  and  stolen  it.  It  was  worth  $60, 
too." 

"  Say  no  more  about  that,"  returned  Mr.  Mortimer. 
"  Put  us  on  dry  land  and  I  will  compensate  you  for  the 
loss  of  your  boat." 

The  captain  gave  the  necessary  orders  to  the  pilot, 
called  up  his  crew  to  man  the  sweeps,  and  in  a  few 
seconds  the  bow  of  the  flatboat  was  turned  toward  the 
shore. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

IN  THE  SMOKE-HOUSE. 


F  ANY  one  on  board  that  flatboat  is  crazy  it 
is  Jack  Bowles.  He  might  have  known  that 
I  wouldn't  stay  there  long  after  my  hands 
were  untied.  Didn't  I  tell  him  that  I  would 
never  go  back  to  that  camp  and  give  him  my  money  with 
my  own  hands?  I  am  free  now,  and  if  he  ever  captures 
me  again  I  shall  deserve  to  be  obliged  to  remain  under 
his  roof  for  the  rest  of  my  days.  The  cabin  can't  be 
more  than  ten  miles  away.  I  can  easily  walk  there  in 
three  hours,  and  it  will  be  no  trouble  for  me  to  slip  into 
the  house  and  obtain  possession  of  my  rifle  and  blankets 
without  awakening  Jake  and  Tom.  Then  I'll  catch  my 
horse,  go  back  to  my  camp  on  the  bluffs  after  my  money, 
and  by  daylight  I'll  be  twenty  miles  away." 

While  these  thoughts  were  passing  through  Julian's 
mind  he  was  striking  out  lustily  for  the  shore.  The 
flatboat  was  still  in  plain  view,  for  the  current  carried 
both  her  and  him  down  the  river  at  an  almost  equal  rate 
of  speed.  Julian  kept  close  watch  of  her,  expecting 
every  moment  to  hear  an  uproar  on  her  deck,  telling 
him  that  his  absence  had  been  discovered.  He  little 
dreamed  that  his  escape,  which  he  had  so  easily  accom- 
plished, had  been  brought  about  by  the  assistance  of  his 
dreaded  enemy,  who  was  at  that  very  moment  creating 
a  diversion  in  his  favor;  and  he  little  thought,  too,  that 
the  pursuers  he  feared  were  not  coming  from  the  flat- 
boat,  but  from  another  quarter  altogether.  Had  he 
looked  up  the  river  occasionally,  instead  of  keeping  his 
gaze  so  steadily  directed  across  the  stream,  he  would 
have  discovered  something. 

A  dug-out  was  coming  swiftly  down  the  river,  its  prow 
being  pointed  directly  toward  Julian.  In  the  stern  sat 


IN  THE  SMOKE-HOUSE.  109 

Tom  Bowles  vigorously  plying  a  paddle,  which  he  used 
with  so  much  skill  that  it  made  not  the  slightest  sound 
as  it  rose  and  fell  in  the  water.  Stretched  out  flat  in 
the  bow  was  Jake  Bowles,  who  kept  his  eyes  fastened  on 
Julian's  head,  now  and  then  signaling  to  his  brother 
with  his  hands,  and  showing  him  what  course  to  steer. 
Julian  discovered  his  enemies  before  he  had  swam  a 
third  of  the  distance  to  the  shore,  but  then  it  was  too 
late  to  make  even  an  attempt  to  avoid  them.  He  heard 
a  hissing  sound,  made  by  the  sharp  bow  of  the  dug-out 
as  it  cleft  the  water,  and  turned  quickly,  only  to  find 
himself  in  the  grasp  of  Jake  Bowles,  who  seized  his 
collar  with  both  hands  and  held  fast  to  it. 

"I  reckon  ye  thought  ye  was  gone,  didn't  ye?"  he 
cried,  in  a  triumphant  tone;  "but  ye  hain't,  be  ye? 
Yer  ketched  agin,  an'  this  time  ye'll  stay  ketchcd,  I  bet 
ye.  Balance  the  boat,  Tom,  an'  I'll  haul  him  in." 

"I  thought  I  left  you  at  home,  Jake  Bowles!" 
exclaimed  Julian.  "  How  came  you  here?" 

"I  guess  we've  got  as  much  right  on  this  yere  river  as 
anybody,  hain't  we?  We  come  arter  ye,  that's  how  we 
come  here,  an'  we've  got  ye,  too." 

For  a  moment  Julian  was  too  astonished  to  move. 
The  approach  of  his  enemies  had  been  so  noiseless,  and 
their  appearance  was  so  sudden  and  unexpected,  that  he 
was  utterly  bewildered.  Not  until  Jack  had  dragged 
him  half-way  into  the  dug-out  did  he  begin  to  compre- 
hend the  situation. 

"  Let  go!"  he  exclaimed,  "  or  I'll  capsize  the  boat." 

"Nary  let  go,"  replied  Jake.  "I  owe  you  a  good 
poundin'  fur  stealin'  them  $100  from  me,  an'  fur  knock- 
in'  me  into  that  hole  last  night,  an'  I'm  goin'  to  give  it 
to  ye  afore  I  let  ye  go.  Come  in  here." 

"No,  you  come  out  here,"  said  Julian.  "I'll  duck 
you  sure  if  you  don't  let  go  my  collar." 

This  was  the  second  time  the  two  boys  had  measured 
strength,  and  although  our  hero  was  fighting  at  great 
disadvantage,  he  tested  the  endurance  and  muscle  of 
his  antagonist  most  severely.  He  strove  to  the  utmost 
to  drag  Jake  into  the  water;  but  the  latter  had  wrapped 


HO  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

his  logs  around  one  of  the  thwarts  and  thrown  his  left 
arm  over  another,  and  Julian  could  not  break  his  hold. 
Nor  could  he  overturn  the  boat,  for  Tom  watched  the 
contest  closely,  and  frustrated  all  Julian's  attempts  by 
throwing  the  weight  of  his  body  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  dug-out. 

Jake,  in  the  meantime  exerted  himself  to  drag  his 
prisoner  out  of  the  water;  but  finding  that  it  was  a  task 
beyond  his  strength,  he  held  firmly  to  Julian's  collar, 
determined  to  wait  until  the  latter,  exhausted  by  his 
furious  struggles,  should  be  obliged  to  surrender  him- 
self. But  Julian's  endurance  seemed  to  have  no  limit. 
He  resolutely  continued  the  contest,  and  all  this  while 
the  canoe  was  floating  down  the  river  side  by  side  with 
the  flatboat,  which  was  scarcely  more  than  a  hundred 
yards  distant. 

"  We're  fightin'  fur  money  now,  we  are,"  said  Jake — 
"for  the  $145.  It's  no  use  fur  ye  to  kick  about  so, 
'cause  we've  got  ye,  an'  we're  goin'  to  hold  fast  to  ye." 

"  You'll  not  get  the  money,  even  if  you  succeed  in 
making  a  prisoner  of  me,"  replied  Julian,  with  as  much 
spirit  as  ever. 

"We'll  see  about  that  when  we've  got  ye  hum.  I 
guess  if  ye  go  a  few  days  without  eatin'  or  sleeping  an' 
have  the  rawhide  laid  over  yer  shoulders  ten  or  twenty 
times  every  hour,  ye'll  be  glad  to  tell  us  all  we  want  to 
know.  Come  here,  Tom,  an'  hit  him  a  clip  with  yer 
paddle.  I  guess  that'll  fetch  him  to  his  senses." 

"Souse  him  under,"  replied  Tom;  "that's  the  way 
to  make  him  give  in." 

Jake  was  prompt  to  act  upon  the  suggestion. 

Julian  resisted  him  desperately,  but  one  or  two  severe 
blows  on  the  fingers  Avith  the  edge  of  Tom's  paddle 
broke  his  hold  on  the  side  of  the  canoe,  and  his  head 
was  forced  under  the  water.  Jake  held  him  there  a 
few  seconds,  and  then  pulled  him  to  the  surface,  and 
after  giving  him  time  to  draw  a  breath  or  two,  and 
clear  his  eyes  of  the  water,  asked  him  if  he  would 
abandon  the  struggle  and  allow  himself  to  be  drawn 
into  the  boat. 


JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

"No,"  replied  Julian,  not  in  the  least  daunted;  "I'll 
never  give  up  while  I  have  any  strength  left." 

"  Stick  him  under  agin,"  said  Tom,  and  down  went 
Julian's  head  for  the  second  time. 

Jake  held  him  under  longer  than  before — as  long  as 
he  dared,  in  fact — and  when  he  pulled  him  up  again, 
Julian  was  incapable  of  any  serious  resistance.  He 
gasped  for  breath,  and  tried  to  lay  hold  of  the  side  of 
the  canoe. 

Jake,  quick  to  improve  the  opportunity  thus  pre- 
sented, exerted  all  his  strength,  while  Tom  kept  the 
boat  trimmed  in  order  to  prevent  a  capsize,  and  finally 
succeeded  in  dragging  his  prisoner  out  of  the  water. 
In  less  time  than  it  takes  to  tell  it  he  was  secured  be- 
yond all  hope  of  escape,  and  the  canoe  was  shooting 
swiftly  up  the  river. 

It  was  fully  half  an  hour  before  Julian  moved  or 
spoke.  He  lay  so  quietly  on  the  bottom  of  the  dug-out 
that  Jake  and  Tom  began  to  be  alarmed,  fearing  that  in 
their  eagerness  to  take  all  the  fight  out  of  their  captive, 
they  had  gone  too  far,  and  taken  the  breath  out  of 
him. 

But  Julian  was  fast  recovering  from  the  effects  of  his 
ducking,  and  as  soon  as  he  was  himself  again  the  broth- 
ers speedily  became  aware  of  the  fact,  for  he  began  to 
try  the  strength  of  the  ropes  with  which  he  was  con- 
fined. He  thrashed  about  at  an  alarming  rate,  rocking 
the  canoe  from  side  to  side,  until  at  last  the  water  be- 
gan to  pour  in  over  the  gunwales,  and  Jake  and  Tom 
were  obliged  to  cease  paddling  and  trim  their  craft  in 
order  to  keep  it  right  side  up. 

But  they  had  done  their  work  thoroughly,  and  Ju- 
lian, finding  his  efforts  useless,  ceased  his  struggles,  and 
listened  to  the  threats  of  his  captors,  who  tried  by  every 
means  in  their  power  to  compel  him  to  tell  where  he 
had  hidden  his  money. 

During  the  progress  of  the  conversation  he  heard 
some  things  he  did  not  know  before,  and  one  was  that 
his  escape  from  the  flatboat  and  his  recapture  by  Jake 
and  Tom  were  a  part  of  the  scheme  Mr.  Bowles  had 


IN  THE  SMOKE-HOUSE.  113 

set  on  foot  for  the  finding  of  the  concealed  treasure, 
lie  was  astonished  to  know  that  while  lie  imagined  he 
was  working  for  his  own  interests  he  was  playing  into 
the  hands  of  his  enemy,  and  told  himself  that  Jack 
still  had  the  most  difficult  part  of  the  undertaking 
before  him. 

The  prisoner  suffered  intensely  during  the  journey  up 
the  river.  The  night  was  cold,  the  wind  keen  and 
piercing,  and  seemed  to  cut  through  his  wet  clothing 
like  a  knife.  When  at  last  the  canoe  reached  the 
landing  ho  was  so  benumbed  that  he  could  scarcely 
speak. 

Having  made  the  dug-out  fast  to  a  tree  on  the  bank, 
Jake  and  Tom  pulled  their  captive  ashore,  and  finding 
him  unable  to  stand  alone,  took  hold  of  his  arms  and 
led  him  toward  the  house. 

Scarcely  were  they  out  of  sight  when  a  heavy  yawl, 
rowed  by  a  single  man,  shot  up  to  the  landing  and 
stopped  alongside  the  canoe.  The  occupant  sprung 
out,  and  without  waiting  to  secure  his  boat,  crept 
cautiously  up  the  bank,  and  followed  after  Jake  and 
Tom. 

When  the  brothers  reached  the  cabin  they  pushed 
open  the  door  and  entered,  dragging  their  captive  after 
them.  Mrs.  Bowles,  who  sat  nodding  on  one  of  the 
nail-kegs,  started  up  as  they  came  in,  and  Julian  knew 
from  the  first  words  she  uttered  that  she  was  expecting 
them. 

"  So  ye've  got  him,  have  ye?"  she  exclaimed,  glee- 
fully. "  This  night's  work  will  make  rich  folks  outen 
us.  An'  ye  was  goin'  to  run  away  from  us,  was  ye — 
from  me  an'  Jack,  who  have  allers  treated  ye  like  a  son 
ever  since  ye've  been  with  us?  An'  ye've  got  $145  hid 
away  from  us,  have  ye?  What  business  have  ye  got 
with  so  much  money?  Take  him  out  to  the  smoke- 
house an'  lock  him  up  thar.  I'm.  too  sleepy  to  wollop 
him  to-night,  but  I'll  tend  to  him  the  fust  thing  in  the 
morninV 

Julian  had  expected  a  terrible  beating  as  soon  as  he 
was  brought  into  the  presence  of  Mrs.  Bowles,  and  was 


114  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

much  relieved  to  know  that  his  punishment  was  to  be 
postponed  for  a  few  hours.  It  was  the  first  time  he  had 
ever  known  Jack's  wife  to  be  too  sleepy  to  use  the  raw- 
hide. 

"An  he  ain't  got  no  business  with  them  new  suit  of 
clothes,  nuther,"  said  Tom,  who,  while  his  brother  was 
searching  for  a  candle  and  the  key  to  the  smoke-house, 
was  taking  some  of  his  own  ragged  wearing  apparel 
down  from  the  nails  in  one  corner  of  the  cabin. 
"  He's  got  to  take  'em  off  an'  give  'em  to  me.  Pap 
said  so." 

"  Ye  shall  have  'em,  Tommy,"  said  his  mother.  "Ye've 
been  a  good  boy  an'  ye  desarve  'em." 

"An'  I'm  to  have  his  rifle  an'  $10  besides,"  chimed  in 
Jake,  angling  for  a  word  of  commendation. 

"So  ye  are.  Allers  be  good  an'  ye'll  be  sartin  to 
prosper." 

When  Jake  had  found  the  candle  and  key,  and  Tom 
had  selected  the  garments  he  intended  to  give  to  Julian 
in  exchange  for  his  own,  the  two  boys  led  their  captive 
out  of  the  cabin  to  the  smoke-house. 

The  first  business  in  order,  after  they  had  conducted 
Julian  into  his  prison,  was  to  rob  him  of  his  clothes. 
Jake  untied  his  hands  and  stood  close  by  his  side,  in 
order  to  seize  him  if  he  made  any  attempt  to  escape, 
while  Tom  picked  up  a  heavy  club  and  stationed  him- 
self in  front  of  the  door,  ready  to  knock  the  prisoner 
down  if  he  eluded  his  brother.  But  Julian,  shivering 
violently  with  the  cold  and  utterly  incapable  of  any  ex- 
ertion, thought  only  of  dry  clothes  and  comfort  and  not 
of  escape.  He  felt  much  more  at  his  ease  after  he  had 
relieved  himself  of  his  wet  garments  and  put  on  those 
Tom  had  provided  for  him,  and  told  himself  that  if  his 
captors  would  bring  him  the  blankets  Jack  had  stolen 
from  his  camp  on  the  bluff,  he  could  obtain  a  night's 
refreshing  sleep  in  spite  of  the  cold  and  his  bonds.  But 
he  soon  found  that  they  did  not  intend  to  permit  him 
to  go  to  sleep  at  all;  and  during  the  next  few  minutes 
he  gained  some  idea  of  what  was  in  store  for  him. 

As  soon  as  the  exchange  had  been  made,  and  Julian 


IN  THE  SMOKE-HOUSE.  Hf> 

had  again  been  bound,  Tom  dropped  his  club,  and 
catching  up  a  long  rope  which  he  had  brought  with 
him  from  the  house,  mounted  upon  a  box  and  made  one 
end  of  it  fast  to  a  beam  overhead.  At  the  same  time 
Jake  pushed  his  prisoner  under  the  beam,  and  seizing 
the  other  end  of  the  rope  tied  it  to  his  hands.  Julian 
was  now  confined  so  that  he  could  neither  sit,  lie  nor 
walk  about.  He  must  remain  upon  his  feet  and  stand 
in  one  place  during  the  rest  of  the  night. 

"1  don't  see  any  use  in  this,"  said  he,  dismayed  at 
the  gloomy  prospect  before  him.  "  I  can't  escape  from 
this  house  as  long  as  my  hands  are  tied." 

"  Wai,  we  can  see  use  in  it,  if  ye  can't/'  replied  Tom. 
"We're  doin'  jest  what  pap  told  us  to  do." 

"An'  we  don't  do  it  'cause  we're  afeared  of  yer  get- 
tin'  away,  nuther,"  said  Jake.  "Ye've  got  to  stand 
right  here  without  a  wink  of  sleep  or  a  bite  to  eat  till 
ye  tell  us  whar  that  money  is  hid.  Mebbe  ye'll  tell  us 
now." 

"  No,  I'll  not,"  replied  Julian  promptly  and  decid- 
edly. 

"All  right.  Ye'll  think  different  in  the  mornin',  I 
tell  ye.  The  ole  woman  will  be  here  bright  an'  arly, 
an'  if  ye  ain't  ready  to  open  yer  mouth,  she'll  give  ye  a 
dozen  or  two  as  hard  as  ever  she  can  lay  'em  on.  When 
pap  comes  home  to-morrer  he'll  take  the  job  outen  her 
hands.  Ye've  got  into  a  hard  row  of  stumps,  feller." 

After  carefully  examining  their  captive's  bonds,  and 
looking  carefully  about  the  smoke-house  to  make  sure 
that  there  was  no  opening  in  it  from  which  he  could 
escape,  even  if  he  succeeded  in  freeing  his  hands,  Jake 
and  Tom  went  out,  locking  the  door  after  them. 

When  the  sound  of  their  footsteps  had  died  away,  and 
Julian  began  to  ponder  upon  what  they  had  said  to  him, 
and  to  realize  how  powerless  he  was  in  the  hands  of  his 
enemies,  his  courage  for  the  first  time  gave  away  utterly. 
He  took  a  step  forward  and  threw  his  weight  upon  the 
rope,  but  it  was  firmly  tied  to  the  beam  above  and  too 
strong  to  be  broken,  and  the  movement  only  pulled  his 
hands  between  his  shoulders,  thus  "tricing  him  up" 


116  JULIAN  MOR  TIMER. 

most  effectually.  He  had  never  dreamed  that  his  ene- 
mies would  endeavor  to  torture  his  secret  out  of  him  in 
this  way.  He  had  expected  to  be  beaten,  and  he  be- 
lieved that  he  could  endure  that;  but  was  his  fortitude 
proof  against  such  a  test  as  this?  In  order  to  save  him- 
self suifering  would  it  not  be  policy  to  give  Jack  the 
information  he  demanded,  and  when  his  liberty  was 
restored  to  him,  resume  his  old  occupation  of  trapping 
until  he  could  earn  enough  to  purchase  an  outfit  for  his 
proposed  journey?  He  had  worked  hard  for  two  winters 
to  accumulate  the  little  property  he  now  possessed,  and 
should  he  surrender  it  at  the  command  of  one  who  had 
not  the  smallest  shadow  of  a  right  to  it?  Julian  passed 
an  hour  debating  such  points  as  these,  and  at  the  end  of 
that  time  his  decision  was  made. 

"  Fll  never  do  it,"  said  he  to  himself.  "  It  belongs  to 
me  alone.  Nobody  else  has  a  claim  upon  it.  The 
woods  are  as  free  to  Jack  Bowles  as  they  once  were  to 
me — much  more  so,  in  fact,  for  there  is  no  one  to  dog 
his  steps,  destroy  his  traps  and  steal  his  earnings — and 
if  he  wants  money  let  him  work  for  it.  That's  the  way 
I  got  mine.  He  will  find  that  I  am  not  to  be  starved 
or  beaten  into  telling  him  where  that  box  is  concealed. 
Jake  and  Tom  are  coming  back  again.  I  hope  they 
have  not  brought  the  rawhide  with  them." 

The  footsteps  which  had  attracted  Julian's  attention 
drew  nearer  and  nearer,  and  presently  a  cautious  hand 
laid  hold  of  the  padlock  with  which  the  door  was  se- 
cured. Julian  listened  to  hear  the  bolt  turned,  but  soon 
found  out  that  his  visitor,  whoever  he  was,  did  not  intend 
to  effect  an  entrance  with  the  assistance  of  a  key; -for 
after  shaking  the  lock  to  assure  himself  that  it  was  fast 
in  the  staple,  he  placed  his  shoulders  against  the  door 
and  tried  to  burst  it  open.  The  prisoner  heard  him 
panting  and  puffing  as  he  applied  his  strength  to  the 
stout  planks.  He  heard,  too,  the  angry  words  he  mut- 
tered when  he  found  that  his  efforts  were  useless,  and 
caught  the  sound  of  his  footsteps  as  he  moved  around 
the  smoke-house. 

Julian  wondered  greatly.  Who  was  he?   Was  he  some 


IN  THE  SMOKE-HOUSE.  H7 

friend  who,  knowing  that  he  was  confined  there,  had 
come  with  the  hope  of  rescuing  him?  There  was  scarcely 
a  man  in  the  settlement  who  would  not  have  hurried  to 
his  relief  had  it  been  known  that  he  was  in  trouble,  but 
unfortunately  no  one  was  aware  of  his  situation.  Of 
course,  then,  the  visitor  could  not  be  a  friend.  Most 
likely  he  was  some  hungry  prowler,  whose  only  object 
was  to  filch  a  ham  or  a  side  of  bacon  from  the  smoke- 
house. 

In  spite  of  the  unpleasantness  of  his  situation,  Julian 
became  interested  in  the  man's  movements.  He  walked 
around  the  building  and  finally  came  back  and  tried  the 
door  again,  but  with  no  better  success  than  before. 
Then  there  was  silence  for  a  few  minutes,  during  which 
the  man  was,  no  doubt,  thinking  what  was  best  to  be 
done,  and  at  length  a  noise  at  one  corner  of  the  house 
told  the  prisoner  that  he  had  decided  upon  a  plan  of 
operations.  He  was  using  the  projecting  ends  of  the 
logs  as  a  ladder,  and  mounting  to  the  top  of  the  build- 
ing. His  success  was  certain  now.  The  roof  was  cov- 
ered with  narrow  oak  boards,  laid  on  like  shingles,  and 
held  in  place  by  small  nails;  and  it  would  be  a  matter  of 
no  difficulty  for  him  to  pull  a  few  of  them  off  and  drop 
down  on  the  inside  of  the  smoke-house.  That  such 
was  the  visitor's  intention  soon  became  evident.  He 
attacked  the  shingles  at  once,  using  extreme  caution  in 
removing  them  from  their  fastenings,  and  in  a  few 
seconds  an  opening  had  been  made  in  the  roof,  that  was 
immediately  filled  by  the  head  and  shoulders  of  the 
man,  who  lighted  a  match  and  held  it  up  to  take  a  sur- 
vey of  things  below  him.  Julian  had  a  good  view  of 
him.  Could  he  believe  his  eyes?  lie  stared  hard  at 
his  visitor,  and  uttered  a  cry  of  delight. 


CHAPTEK  XIV. 

SANDEKS   TELLS   HIS   STOKY. 

ULIAN'S  visitor  was  the  man  Sanders.  He 
recognized  him  by  the  handkerchief  that  was 
tied  over  his  head.  If  he  had  come  there  to 
release  him  would  it  not  be  sufficient  proof 
that  he  was  really  the  friend  he  professed  to  be? 

"Julian!"  exclaimed  the  man,  in  a  low  but  excited 
tone  of  voice. 

"I  am  here!"  replied  the  prisoner,  so  overjoyed  that 
he  could  scarcely  speak  plainly. 

"  Wai,  come  out  o'  that.  You  needn't  stay  thar  no 
longer." 

"  I  can't  go  up  there — I  am  tied." 

"Are  you?  Then  I'll  soon  be  down  to  turn  you 
loose." 

After  burning  another  match  to  make  sure  the  way 
was  clear  below  him,  Sanders  crawled  through  the  open- 
ing in  the  roof,  and  hanging  by  his  hands,  dropped  to 
the  ground.  A  knife  which  he  drew  from  his  pocket 
made  quick  work  with  the  prisoner's  bonds,  and  in  a 
few  seconds  he  was  free. 

"  How  came  you  here?"  Julian  asked  of  his  deliverer, 
after  he  had  taken  a  few  turns  around  the  smoke-house 
to  relieve  his  cramped  limbs.  "I  left  you  ten  miles 
down  the  river  fast  asleep  on  board  the  flatboat." 

"  Not  much  I  wasn't  asleep,"  replied  Sanders,  with  a 
laugh.  "I  seed  every  thing  that  happened.  But  we 
hain't  got  no  time  to  talk.  Be  thar  any  men  in  the 
house?" 

"No.     Jake  and  Tom  are  alone  with  their  mother." 

"Them  boys?  If  I  had  known  that,  you  wouldn't 
have  been  brought  in  here.  Climb  up  on  my  shoulders 
now,  and  crawl  out," 


SANDERS  TELLS  HIS  STORY.  H9 

Not  having  entirely  recovered  from  the  effects  of  his 
long  ride  in  his  wet  clothes,  Julian  was  not  very  strong 
or  active,  but  after  some  difficulty  he  succeeded  in 
mounting  upon  Sanders'  broad  shoulders,  and  drawing 
himself  up  to  the  opening  in  the  roof,  he  crawled 
through  and  dropped  to  the  ground.  The  man  climbed 
u})  the  logs  and  followed  him,  and  when  he  once  more 
stood  by  Julian's  side  he  gave  utterance,  with  the  first 
words  he  spoke,  to  the  very  thoughts  that  were  passing 
through  the  boy's  mind. 

"I  reckon  that  if  I  do  a  few  more  things  of  this 
kind  you  will  be  willin'  to  b'lieve  that  I  am  any  thing 
but  an  enemy  to  you,  won't  you?"  he  asked. 

"You  have  rendered  me  a  most  important  service," 
answered  the  boy,  guardedly,  "and  I  am  very  grateful 
to  you  for  it.  I  only  wish  I  was  as  well  satisfied  of  your 
friendship,  and  the  truth  of  some  things  you  told  me 
this  morning,  as  I  am  of  the  interest  you  somehow  take 
in  me.  I  can  not  understand  why  you,  who  are  an  utter 
stranger  to  me,  should  put  yourself  to  so  much  trouble 
to  assist  me." 

"  I  hain't  no  stranger  to  you,"  replied  Sanders  ear- 
nestly. "I  tell  you  I  knowed  you  and  your  brother  afore 
either  of  you  could  walk.  You  were  stole  away  from 
your  home  by  Dick  Mortimer.  Your  friends  have  just 
found  out  whar  you  are,  an'  sent  me  arter  you.  You're 
goin'  to  start  for  the  plains  now,  hain't  you?" 

"I  am,  and  in  less  than  five  minutes." 

"  Wai,  I'm  goin'  the  same  way.  You  needn't  travel 
in  my  company  unless  you're  a  mind  to,  but  I'd  be 
powerful  glad  to  have  you.  I  can  show  you  the  way  to 
St.  Joe  anyhow,  an'  as  we  go  along  I  will  tell  you  about 
the  folks  you  hain't  seed  fur  so  many  years." 

Julian  leaned  against  the  smoke-house  and  thought 
over  this  proposition.  It  was  a  very  fair  one,  and  he 
could  not  see  that  he  would  place  himself  in  any  danger 
by  accepting  it.  lie  was  almost  ready  to  put  entire 
faith  in  his  new  acquaintance,  and  to  believe  everything 
he  had  told  him.  He  wanted  to  believe  it,  and  if 
Sanders  had  made  his  appearance  a  •  few  hours  before — 


120  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

prior  to  his  meeting  with  Mr.  Mortimer — Julian  Avould 
have  placed  unlimited  confidence  in  him.  But  his  ex- 
perience with  Jack  Bowies'  guest  had  made  him  timid 
and  suspicious. 

Sanders  did  not  ask  him  to  give  himself  up  to  his 
guidance  and  control,  but  seemed  satisfied  to  wait  until 
he  was  willing  to  do  so  of  his  free  will;  and  Julian  told 
himself  that  that  was  a  good  sign. 

He  at  last  decided  that  he  would  accept  the  offer  of 
the  man's  guidance  as  far  as  St.  Joseph,  and  that  when 
he  reached  that  point  he  would  decide  upon  his  future 
movements.  In  the  meantime  he  would  watch  his  com- 
panion closety,  and  leave  him  at  the  very  first  sign  of 
treachery.  This  determination  he  communicated  to 
Sanders,  who  seemed  to  be  immensely  delighted  by  it. 

"  I  am  monstrous  glad  to  hear  you  say  it,"  said  he. 
"And  I'll  tell  you  what's  a  fact:  If  you  go  with  me  as 
fur  as  St.  Joe,  you  will  go  all  the  rest  of  the  way  with 
me." 

Julian  did  not  quite  like  the  tone  in  which  these  words 
were  spoken,  for  it  made  him  feel  that  there  was  more  in 
them  than  he  could  understand;  and  had  there  been 
light  enough  for  him  to  see  the  expression  the  man's 
face  Avore  at  that  moment  the  opinion  would  have  been 
confirmed. 

"  Whar  you  goin'  now?"  asked  Sanders,  as  Julian 
moved  toward  the  cabin. 

"  Jake  and  Tom  have  some  of  my  property  in  their 
possession."  was  the  reply;  "a  suit  of  clothes,  a  rifle  and 
a  pair  of  blankets.  I  must  have  them  before  I  start." 

"'Taint  wuth  while,"  said  Sanders.  "You've  got 
money;  buy  more." 

"I  may  need  the  little  I  have  for  other  purposes  when 
I  get  out  on  the  plains." 

"Sho!  You'll  find  more  out  thar  than  you  ever 
dreamed  of.  You  can  walk  up  a  ravine  a  little  way  from 
your  father's  ranch o  an'  pick  up  nuggets  of  gold  as  big 
as  you  can  tote." 

' '  But  I  don't  know  how  long  it  will  be,  or  what  I 
shall  be  obliged  to  pass  through,  before  I  get  there," 


SANDEA'S  TELLS  HIS  STORY.  \%\ 

replied  Julian.  "  Another  thing,  Jack  Bowles  and  his 
boys  shall  not  have  the  satisfaction  of  using  anything 
that  belongs  to  me." 

"Wai,  go  ahead,  then,  if  you're  so  sot  onto  it,  an'  I'll 
be  close  by  to  lend  a  hand  if  you  get  into  trouble." 

While  this  conversation  was  being  carried  on  Julian 
and  his  companion  were  walking  toward  the  cabin,  and 
now  they  were  close  beside  it.  The  boy  at  once  pushed 
open  the  door  and  entered,  while  Sanders  took  his  stand 
upon  the  steps  where  he  could  see  all  that  went  on. 

There  was  a  roaring  fire  on  the  hearth,  and  by  the  aid 
of  the  light  it  threw  out  Julian  could  distinguish  every 
object  in  the  cabin. 

Almost  the  first  things  his  eyes  rested  upon  were  the 
clothes  of  which  he  had  been  robbed,  spread  out  on  a 
couple  of  nail-kegs  to  dry.  His  rifle  stood  beside  the  bed 
in  which  Jake  and  Tom  lay  fast  asleep,  and  his  powder- 
horn  and  bullet-pouch  hung  from  a  nail  over  their  heads. 
Walking  across  the  floor  with  his  ordinary  step,  and 
without  taking  the  least  pains  to  avoid  arousing  the 
occupants  of  the  cabin,  Julian  took  the  horn  and  pouch 
down  from  the  nail,  and  while  slinging  them  over  his 
shoulder  discovered  the  other  articles  of  which  he  was  in 
search — his  blankets,  which  were  snugly  tucked  around 
the  shoulders  of  the  sleeping  brothers. 

"  You  are  very  good  to  yourselves,  are  you  not?"  said 
Julian  aloud.  "  You  leave  me  to  freeze  in  the  smoke- 
house, and  make  use  of  my  property  to  keep  yourselves 
warm.  You'll  sleep  colder  for  the  rest  of  the  night." 

As  he  said  this  he  jerked  the  blankets  off  the  bed. 
The  movement  awoke  Tom  Bowles  Avho  started  up  in 
alarm,  and  was  greatly  amazed  to  see  his  prisoner  stand- 
ing unbound  beside  his  bed. 

"Ye  Julian!"  he  exclaimed,  as  soon  as  he  found  his 
tongue. 

"  That's  just  what's  the  matter!"  replied  our  hero. 

"  How  come  ye  outen  that  ar  smoke-house?" 

"  I  crawled  out." 

"  Ye'll  crawl  back  agin  mighty  sudden,  I  tell  ye," 
replied  Tom,  seizing  his  brother  by  the  shoulder. 
"  Wake  up  here,  Jake," 


122  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

"Hold  on!"  said  Julian,  lifting  his  recovered  rifle 
over  Tom's  head.  "  No  noise,  now." 

If  Tom  was  alarmed  by  this  movement  on  the  part  of 
Julian,  he  was  still  more  terrified  when  he  saw  a  head 
and  a  pair  of  broad  shoulders  thrust  in  at  the  door,  and 
a  clenched  hand,  which  looked  as  though  it  might  have 
knocked  down  an  ox,  shaken  threateningly  at  him.  He 
understood  the  gesture  and  took  his  hand  off  his  brother's 
shoulder. 

"Good-by,  Tom,"  said  Julian,  shouldering  his  rifle 
and  gathering  his  clothes  and  blankets  under  his  arm. 
"  I  am  sorry  that  I  am  in  so  great  a  hurry,  for  I  have 
several  little  accounts  against  you  and  Jake  that  I  should 
like  to  settle  up  before  I  go.  Give  my  very  kindest 
regards  to  your  father  when  he  returns,  and  be  sure  and 
follow  the  excellent  advice  your  mother  gave  you  a  while 
ago  in  my  hearing." 

So  saying  Julian  left  the  cabin,  and  Sanders  slammed 
the  door  after  him.  Followed  by  his  ally,  the  boy  walked 
toward  the  corn-cribs,  and  while  he  was  pulling  off  Tom's 
tattered  garments  and  putting  on  his  own,  which  were 
now  dry  and  comfortable,  he  saw  the  door  of  the  cabin 
opened  and  the  heads  of  Mrs.  Bowles  and  her  two  sons 
thrust  cautiously  out.  But  they  did  not  speak  to  him 
or  venture  beyond  the  threshold.  They  peered  into  the 
darkness  a  moment  and  then  closed  and  fastened  the 
door;  and  that  was  the  last  Julian  ever  saw  of  them. 

Billy,  proving  more  tractable  than  on  a  former  occasion, 
was  captured  and  saddled  without  difficulty.  In  two 
hours  more  Julian's  camp  on  the  bluff  was  again  occu- 
pied. The  brush  shanty  which  Jack  Bowles  had  pulled 
down  had  been  restored  to  an  upright  position;  a  fire 
was  burning  brightly  before  it;  Billy  was  standing 
hitched  to  a  tree  close  by;  and  Julian,  with  his  saddle 
under  his  head  for  a  pillow,  and  the  tin  box  containing 
his  money  safely  stowed  away  in  his  pocket,  lay  stretched 
out  on  one  of  the  blankets,  while  Sanders  reclined  upon 
the  other  smoking  his  pipe.  The  man  had  been  relat- 
ing how  he  had  hidden  behind  the  corn-crib  and  over- 
heard Jack  Bowies'  plans  concerning  Julian,  and  thus 


SANDERS  TELLS  HIS  STOR  Y.  123 

been  able  to  take  measures  to  defeat  them.  He  had 
been  a  witness  to  everytking  that  happened  on  board 
the  flatboat.  He  had  seen  Julian  go  overboard,  and 
knowing  that  Jake  and  Tom  were  close  by  waiting  to 
pick  him  up,  he  had  clambered  down  into  the  yawl,  as 
soon  as  he  saw  an  opportunity  to  do  so  without  attract- 
ing the  attention  of  any  one  of  the  flatboat's  crew,  and 
pushed  off  to  Julian's  assistance.  His  story  was  fol- 
lowed by  a  long  pause,  which  was  broken  by  our  hero, 
who  said: 

"  I  am  ready  to  hear  what  you  h#ve  to  tell  me  about 
my  parents.  You  say  they  are  both  alive?" 

"  Both  of  'em,"  replied  Sanders. 

"  How  does  my  father  look?" 

"  Jest  as  nateral  as  life — enough  like  you  to  be  your 
brother,  if  it  wasn't  for  his  gray  har  an'  mustache.  He's 
a  tall,  broad-shouldered  man,  has  an  eye  like  an  eagle's, 
an'  is  the  best  hossman  an'  rifle-shot  in  the  West.  He's 
awful  rich,  too;  I  don't  b'lieve  he  knows  how  much  he's 
wuth.  You  see,  your  mother — an.'  she's  a  lady,  you  bet 
— is  a  Spanish  woman.  Her  father,  long  years  ago," 
Sanders  went  on  hurriedly,  as  if  he  did  not  intend  to 
allow  his  listener  any  time  to  ask  questions,  "took  it 
into  his  ole  head  that  he  wanted  to  be  away  from  every- 
body, an'  so  he  located  out  thar  in  the  mountains.  He 
allers  was  rich,  but  when  he  got  out  thar  he  found  him- 
self richer'n  ever.  Thar  was  gold  all  around  him.  He 
couldn't  walk  without  steppin'  onto  it,  an'  he  picked  it 
up  by  cart-loads.  Your  father,  who  was  out  thar  sojerin', 
resigned  his  commission  in  the  army  an'  married  his  dar- 
ter; an'  in  course  when  the  ole  man  died  he  came  into  pos- 
session of  all  his  gold  dust.  But  thar  were  some  people 
about  who  didn't  want  him  to  keep  it.  The  only  kin 
folks  your  mother  had  after  her  father  died  were  a 
brother  an'  cousin,  an'  you  see  if  everybody  else  had 
been  out  of  the  way,  all  the  money  would  have  fell  to 
her  brother.  They  ain't  the  honestest  fellers  in  the 
world,  her  kin  folks  ain't,  I  must  say.  They're  the 
wust  sort  of  gamblers,  bein'  monstrous  fond  of  three- 
card  moute,  an'  they  are  even  suspicioned  of  doin' 


•J.24  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

things  a  heap  sight  wuss  than  that;  an*  since  your 
father  an'  his  family  wouldn't  die  an'  leave  them  to  take 
charge  of  the  money,  they  laid  a  plan  to  hurry  up  mat- 
ters an'  divide  the  plunder  between  them.  But  all  the 
harm  they  done  was  to  steal  you  away  from  home,  an' 
that  didn't  do  'em  no  good  'cause  I've  found  you  agin." 

"You  say  that  Dick  Mortimer  is  the  man  who  kid- 
naped me?"  asked  Julian,  when  Sanders  paused. 
'Sartin,  I  do." 

'And  that  he  is  a  relative  of  my  mother's?" 
'  Them's  my  very  words." 
'  Well,  now,  is  he  her  brother  or  her  cousin?" 
He's  her  brother." 
Her  own  brother?" 
In  course." 

How  can  that  be?    My  mother's  name  wasn't  Mor- 
timer before  she  was  married,  was  it?" 

"  Eh?"  exclaimed  Sanders,  somewhat  disconcerted  by 
this  question.  "  Oh,  no;  in  course  not.  Her  name 
was  Cordova,  an'  Dick's  her  cousin." 

"  Then  how  does  it  come  that  his  name  is  Morti- 
mer?" 

"  Eh?  I'm  blessed  if  I  know.  I  guess  it  jest  hap- 
pened so.  An'  your  brother's  alive  an*  all  right,  too. 
Now  he's  a  boy,  he  is.  You're  mighty  right.  His 
name's  Fred.  Won't  he  make  things  lively  for  you 
though  when  you  get  out  thai?  You  hain't  goin'  to 
sleep,  be  you?" 

"  Yes,  I  am,"  replied  Julian,  rearranging  his  blanket 
and  resting  his  head  on  his  hard  pillow,  "  I  have 
scarcely  closed  my  eyes  during  the  past  forty-eight 
hours,  and  I  begin  to  feel  the  need  of  rest.  We  have  a 
long  journey  to  make  to-morrow,  you  know.  Good- 
night." 

Sanders  looked  sharply  at  the  boy,  and  settled  back 
on  his  blanket,  muttering  as  he  did  so: 

"  Did  I  tell  him  anything  out  of  the  way,  I  wonder? 
I  am  afraid  I  got  that  brother  an'  cousin  business 
mixed  up  a  trifle  too  much.  I  said  jest  what  Reginald 
told  me  to  say  as  nigh  as  I  could.  If  I  can  only  man- 


SANDERS  TELLS  HIS  STORY.  125 

age  to  keep  him  with  me  till  we  reach  St.  Joe,  I  am  all 
right.  It  will  make  a  rich  man  of  me." 

"It  is  no  use  to  waste  time  in  listening  to  this  fellow 
and  building  hopes  on  what  he  says,"  thought  Julian, 
throwing  his  arm  over  his  head,  and  watching  his  com- 
panion through  his  half -closed  eyes.  "He  repeated  his 
story  as  if  he  had  learned  it  by  heart,  and  some  portions 
of  it  didn't  hold  together.  I  wish  he  would  take  off 
that  handkerchief  and  give  me  a  fair  view  of  his  face. 
Who  is  he,  and  why  did  he  come  here?  My  father 
never  sent  him,  for,  if  he  is  alive  and  well,  and  knows 
where  I  am,  he  would  have  come  himself  if  he  wanted 
to  have  me  near  him.  He  is  no  friend  of  Dick  Morti- 
mer, for  he  is  working  against  him.  Is  he  up  to  some 
trick  of  his  own,  or  is  he  employed  by  somebody?  I'll 
not  go  to  sleep,  for  I  am  afraid  of  him.  1  can't  well 
avoid  traveling  in  his  company  as  far  as  St.  Joseph, 
but  when  I  get  there  I  will  have  no  more  to  do  with 
him." 

For  a  short  while  Julian  was  wakeful  enough.  His 
recent  excitement  and  adventures,  and  his  speculations 
concerning  the  future,  kept  his  brain  busy  and  banished 
sleep.  But  at  last  his  thoughts  became  confused,  his 
eyelids  grew  heavy,  and  in  a  few  minutes  more  he  waa 
iii  the  land  of  dreams. 


CHAPTEE  XV. 

THE   JOURNEY   COMMENCED. 


HEN  Julian  opened  his  eyes  again  the  sun 
was  rising.  He  started  up  with  an  exclama- 
tion which  was  repeated  as  soon  as  he  was 
fairly  awake.  His  first  thought  was  of  his 
companion.  He  was  gone.  A  glance  about  the  camp 
showed  him  that  something  else  was  also  missing — his 
rifle,  which  he  had  placed  under  the  eaves  of  the  cabin 
close  at  hand  and  ready  for  use  in  case  of  emergency.  A 
strange  feeling  came  over  Julian,  and  it  was  some  min- 
utes before  he  could  muster  up  courage  enough  to  place 
his  hand  upon  the  breast  of  his  jacket  in  which  he  car- 
ried his  box  of  money.  But  he  did  it  at  last,  and  was 
immensely  relieved  to  find  that  his  box  was  safe.  He 
removed  the  lid,  and  saw  that  its  contents  had  not  been 
disturbed. 

While  he  was  trying  to  find  some  explanation  for  his 
companion's  absence,  and  wondering  why,  if  he  had  de- 
serted him  and  stolen  his  gun,  he  had  not  taken  the 
money  also,  Sanders  appeared  in  sight  over  the  brow  of 
the  bluff  with  Julian's  rifle  on  his  shoulder  and  several 
squirrels  in  his  hand,  which  he  had  shot  for  their  I  reak- 
fast.  The  boy  said  nothing  about  the  fright  his  absence 
had  occasioned  him,  but  assisted  him  in  cooking  and 
eating  the  squirrels,  telling  himself  the  while  that  what- 
ever else  Sanders  might  be  he  was  not  a  thief.  It  was 
plain  now  that  if  he  had  any  designs  upon  Julian,  the 
time  to  carry  them  into  execution  had  not  yet  arrived. 

When  the  two  had  satisfied  their  appetites  Billy  was 
saddled,  the  fire  extinguished,  and  the  journey  toward 
St.  Joseph  commenced.  Julian  rode  the  horse  and  San- 
ders walked  by  his  side,  striding  along  at  an  astonishing 
rate  and  keeping  Billy  in  a  trot  all  the  way.  He  proved 


THE  JO  URNE  Y  COMMENCED.  ]  o  7 

to  be  a  very  entertaining  companion,  and  told  stories  of 
adventure  in  the  mountains  and  on  the  plains  tillJulian 
became  interested  in  spite  of  himself.  Sanders,  quick 
to  notice  the  fact,  again  spoke  of  the  home  among  the 
gold  mines  to  which  he  was  ready  to  conduct  Julian  if 
the  latter  would  only  trust  to  his  guidance;  but  seeing 
very  plainly  that  the  boy  did  not  believe  a  word  he  said, 
he  dropped  the  subject  and  did  not  refer  to  it  again. 

At  noon  they  stopped  at  a  farm-house,  where  both 
travelers  and  horse  were  regaled  with  an  excellent  din- 
ner, and  about  10  o'clock  that  night  found  themselves 
in  a  hotel  in  St.  Joseph.  Julian  asked  to  be  shown  at 
once  to  his  room,  and  after  he  had  locked  himself  in 
and  barricaded  the  door  with  the  washstand  and  chairs, 
he  drew  a  long  breath  of  relief,  and  for  the  first  time 
since  meeting  Richard  Mortimer  believed  himself  free 
from  danger.  The  feeling  of  comfort  and  security  he 
experienced  was  certainly  refreshing,  but  it  would  have 
been  short-lived  had  he  known  what  his  companion  in 
the  adjoining  room  was  thinking  about. 

That  worthy  was  up  and  doing  at  a  very  early  hour, 
and  his  first  move,  after  he  had  come  out  of  his  room 
and  looked  up  and  down  the  hall  to  make  sure  that  there 
was  no  one  in  sight,  was  to  place  his  ear  and  then  his 
eye  to  the  keyhole  of  Julian's  door.  He  heard  and  saw 
enough  to  satisfy  him  that  the  boy  had  not  yet  arisen, 
and  this  point  being  settled  he  went  down  stairs  and  out 
of  the  house.  He  hurried  along  the  streets,  and  after 
turning  numerous  corners  found  himself  in  front  of  a 
small  and  very  dingy  public  house,  which,  as  the  sign 
before  the  door  indicated,  was  called  the  "Hunter's 
Home."  It  was  patronized  exclusively  by  frontiersmen, 
and  some  of  the  guests  were  already  astir  and  lounging 
about  the  doors.  Sanders  glanced  at  the  groups  as  he 
walked  by  them,  and  turning  the  nearest  corner  passed 
on  out  of  sight.  No  sooner  had  he  disappeared  than  two 
men  arose  from  the  bench  on  which  they  had  been  sit- 
ting, and  strolling  down  the  street  and  turning  the  same 
corner,  presently  came  up  with  Sanders,  who  was  perched 
upon  a  dry-goods  box  in  front  of  a  store. 


128  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

"  I  allowed  it  was  you,  Ned,  but  I  didn't  know,"  said 
one  of  them,-  advancing  and  extending  his  hand,  which 
Sanders  shook  cordially.  "  You're  dressed  up  like  a 
gentleman.  What  luck?" 

"I've  got  him." 

"You  have?"  cried  both  the  men  in  concert. 

"  It's  a  fact.  He's  in  a  hotel  not  more'n  a  half  a  mile 
from  here — Julian  Mortimer  himself,  an'  nobody  else. 
I've  had  the  wust  kind  of  a  time  a  gettin'  him.  Dick 
Mortimer  was  thar  ahead  of  me." 

"Sho!" 

"Yes.  An'  we're  goiii  to  have  a  wusser  time,  I  am 
afraid,  gettin'  him  out  of  the  town  to  the  prairy.  He's 
sharper'n  two  steel  traps,  that  boy  is,  an'  somehow  he 
don't  like  the  looks  of  me.  He  knows  a  heap  about 
himself,  an'  is  too  smart  to  swallow  a  single  one  of  the 
lies  I  told  him.  He's  goin'  to  cut  loose  from  me,  I  can 
see  it  in  his  eye;  an'  whatever  we  do  must  be  done  to 
once.  He  wants  to  jine  a  wagon  train,  if  he  can  find 
one." 

"  Wai,  he  can,"  replied  one  of  the  men,  "  'cause 
thar's  one  goin'  out  to-day.  Silas  Eoper's  goin'  along." 

"Silas  Boper!"  replied  Sanders  savagely.  "He's 
allers  in  the  way.  He  musn't  see  the  boy,  'cause  if 
he  does  our  goose  is  cooked — done  brown.  Come  with 
me  to  the  hotel,  an'  as  we  go  along  I  will  think  up  some 
way  to  manage  this  business." 

Sanders  jumped  off  the  dry-goods  box  and  walked 
rapidly  away,  closely  followed  by  his  two  companions. 
When  they  arrived  within  sight  of  the  hotel  he  stopped, 
for  they  saw  Julian  standing  on  the  steps.  Sanders' 
friends  recognized  him  at  once,  and  declared  that  they 
would  have  known  him  if  they  had  met  him  on  the 
other  side  of  the  world.  They  held  a  short,  whispered 
conversation,  after  which  the  two  men  retreated  into  a 
door- way  out  of  sight,  and  Sanders  kept  on  and  accosted 
Julian. 

"  You're  an  'arly  bird,  hain't  you?"  said  he,  with  an 
awkward  attempt  to  appear  cordial  and  friendly.  "  So 
am  I.  I  have  been  findin'  out  somethin'  about  the 


THE  JO  URNE  Y  COMMENCED.  120 

wagon  trains,  an'  I  am  told  that  one  went  out  yesterday 
bound  for  the  very  place  you  want  to  go.  It  will  pass 
within  ti  hundred  yards  of  the  door  of  your  father's 
rancho.  I  am  goin'  to  start  after  it  directly.  Thar 
won't  be  another  goin'  out  under  a  month,  an'  I  can't 
wait  so  long;  fur  I've  no  money  to  waste  in  payin'  board 
bills." 

"  Neither  have  I,"  said  Julian. 

"Then  you'd  best  go  with  me,  hadn't  you?  We  can 
easy  ketch  the  train  by  day  after  to-morrow — 

Sanders  paused  suddenly,  finishing  the  sentence  with 
something  that  sounded  very  much  like  an  oath.  He 
gazed  earnestly  down  the  street  for  a  moment,  and  then 
turned  and  walked  rapidly  away,  drawing  his  handker- 
chief close  about  his  face  as  he  went.  He  did  not  slacken 
his  pace  until  he  had  left  the  hotel  out  of  sight,  and  was 
joined  by  his  two  companions,  who  had  made  an  equally 
hasty  retreat.  The  expression  on  their  faces  indicated 
that  they  were  terribly  enraged  about  something. 

"  If  they  wasn't  worth  so  much  money  to  us  I  would 
make  way  with  both  of  them  in  less  time  than  it  takes  to 
say  so!"  exclaimed  Sanders,  in  a  very  savage  tone  of 
voice.  "  Did  you  ever  hear  tell  of  such  luck?  I've  done 
all  that  can  be  done  at  this  end  of  the  route,  but  I  hain't 
beat  yet.  We'll  go  to  the  mountains  now,  an'  have  every 
thing  fixed  agin'  the  wagon  train  gets  thar." 

For  some  reason  Sanders  and  his  friends  now  seemed 
anxious  to  leave  the  town  with  as  little  delay  as  possible. 
They  made  the  best  of  their  way  to  the  Hunter's  Home, 
which  they  entered  hurriedly,  and  when  they  again  made 
their  appearance  on  the  street  they  were  all  on  horse- 
back and  carried  rifles  on  their  shoulders  and  revolvers 
and  bowie-knives  in  their  belts. 

No  one  not  well  acquainted  with  him  would  have 
recognized  Sunders  as  the  same  man  who  had  gone  into 
the  hotel  but  a  few  minutes  before.  His  broadcloth  and 
jewelry  had  disappeared,  also  the  handkerchief  which  he 
had  worn  about  his  face,  and  he  was  dressed  in  a  suit  of 
buckskin,  which  had  evidently  seen  the  hardest  kind  of 
service.  If  Julian  could  have  taken  one  glance  at  him 


130  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

now,  he  would  not  have  felt  the  least  inclination  to 
renew  his  short  acquaintance  with  him,  nor  would  he 
have  wondered  that  the  man  had  been  so  careful  to  keep 
his  features  concealed  from  view.  Perhaps  he  would 
have  asked  himself  why  he  did  not  continually  wear  the 
handkerchief. 

His  was  the  worst  looking  face  that  had  ever  been 
seen  in  the  streets  of  St.  Joseph — one  that  any  man 
except  its  owner  would  have  been  ashamed  of;  and  even 
lie  had  thought  best  to  hide  it  for  a  while  lest  it  should 
bear  testimony  against  him  and  defeat  his  plans.  But 
as  he  was  now  about  to  leave  the  country  of  civilized 
men  and  go  among  those  of  his  own  kind,  concealment 
was  no  longer  necessary.  He  appeared  in  his  true  char- 
acter, that  of  villain  and  desperado. 

When  Sanders  and  his  companions  were  fairly  out  of 
the  stable-yard,  they  put  spurs  to  their  horses,  and  rode 
swiftly  away.  They  stopped  that  night  long  enough  to 
ascertain  that  Julian  was  with  the  emigrants,  and  to 
make  a  demonstration,  the  result  of  which  shall  be 
related  presently,  and  then  resumed  their  rapid  gallop, 
which  they  did  not  slacken  in  one  day,  nor  two;  and 
even  at  the  end  of  a  week,  mounted  on  fresh  horses, 
which  they  had  stolen  or  obtained  in  exchange  for  their 
own  jaded  animals,  they  were  still  riding  toward  the 
mountains  as  if  for  dear  life.  In  this  way  they  gained 
considerably  on  the  wagon  train,  and  by  the  time  it  ap- 
peared in  sight  of  Bridger's  Pass,  Sanders  had  mustered 
assistance,  and  was  ready  to  accomplish  by  force  of  arms 
what  he  had  failed  to  gain  by  strategy. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

SILAS    KOPEK,    THE    GUIDE. 


URPRLSED  at  the  abruptness  with  which 
Sanders  had  deserted  him,  and  at  the  unmis- 
takable signs  of  rage  and  alarm  he  exhibited, 
Julian  stood  looking  after  his  retreating  form 
until  it  disappeared  from  view,  and  then  directed  his 
gaze  down  the  street. 

He  could  see  nothing  there  calculated  to  frighten 
Sanders  or  any  body  else.  There  were  but  few  men  in 
sight,  and  these  appeared  to  have  no  hostile  intentions 
toward  any  one,  for  they  were  going  quietly  about  their 
business,  and  did  not  seem  to  be  aware  that  there  were 
such  persons  as  Julian  and  his  late  companion  in 
existence. 

Among  them  was  a  man  who  attracted  the  boy's  atten- 
tion at  once;  and  he  also  seemed  to  be  an  object  of 
interest  to  all  in  his  immediate  vicinity,  for  every  one 
who  passed  him  turned  to  look  back  at  him.  He  was 
the  nearest  approach  to  a  giant  that  Julian  had  ever 
seen.  Sanders,  large  and  powerful  as  he  was,  would 
have  looked  like  a  boy  beside  him.  He  was  as  straight 
as  an  arrow,  and  moved  along  as  if  he  were  set  on 
springs.  He  was  dressed  in  a  complete  suit  of  buckskin, 
even  to  his  moccasins,  and  carried  the  never-failing 
knife  and  revolver  about  his  waist.  But  little  could  be 
seen  of  his  face,  for  it  was  covered  with  immense 
whiskers,  which  reached  almost  to  his  belt.  He  walked 
with  his  hands  in  the  pockets  of  his  hunting-shirt,  look- 
ing carelessly  about  him,  as  if  he  had  determined  upon 
nothing  in  particular. 

Arriving  at  the  steps  where  Julian  stood,  he  seated 
himself  upon  them,  and  drawing  a  pipe  from  a  little 
pouch  which  hung  at  his  belt,  prepared  to  till  up  for  a 
smoke. 


132  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

Julian  watched  all  his  movements  with  interest,  and 
felt  a  strange  kind  of  awe  in  the  man's  presence.  He 
was  certainly  a  trapper,  and  he  must  be  a  daring  one, 
too,  unless  his  looks  belied  him,  for  he  would  have  been 
picked  out  among  a  thousand  as  a  man  who  was  not  to 
be  daunted  by  any  physical  dangers.  He  must  know  all 
about  life  on  the  frontier,  of  course,  and  perhaps  he 
could  give  some  information  concerning  the  wagon  train 
of  which  Sanders  had  spoken. 

"Sir!"  said  Julian,  as  soon  as  this  thought  passed 
through  his  mind. 

"  Wai!"  returned  the  trapper,  raising  a  pair  of  honest- 
looking  brown  eyes,  which  seemed  to  invite  the  boy's 
confidence. 

"  Can  you  tell  me  whether  or  not  a  wagon  train  left 
this  place  yesterday  for  the  mountains?"  asked  Julian. 
"I  can." 

"I  understood  there  was/'  continued  Julian,  after 
waiting  for  the  man  to  say  something  else. 
"Then  you  understood  what  wasn't  so." 
"Was  there  none  left?" 
"No." 

"  What  object  could  Sanders  have  had  in  view  in  tell- 
ing me  that  falsehood?"  thought  the  boy.     "When  does 
the  next  one  start?" 
To-day." 
How  soon?" 
'Toonct." 

Where  from?" 

*  From  a  place  'bout  a  mile  from  here,  right  up  this 
street." 

'Could  I  go  with  it?" 

I  reckon.     Want  to  go  to  Californy?" 
'  No,  sir;  I  am  bound  for  the  mountains." 

For  the  Peak?" 
'  No,  sir;  for  the  mountains." 
'Wai,  wharabouts  in  the  mountains?" 
'Whereabouts?"  replied  Julian. 
He  gazed  at  the  trapper  a  moment,  and  seating  him- 
self on  the  opposite  end  of  the  steps,  looked  down  at 


SILAS  ROPER,   THE  GUIDE.  133 

the  ground  in  a  brown  study.  The  question  propounded 
to  him  excited  a  serious  train  of  reflections  in  his  mind. 
He  had  always  spoken  and  thought  of  "'the  mountains" 
without  having  any  very  definite  idea  concerning  them. 
He  had  imagined  that  when  he  was  once  safe  across  the 
plains  his  troubles  would  all  be  over,  and  that  it  would 
be  a  matter  of  no  difficulty  to  find  the  home  and  friends 
of  which  he  was  in  search  if  they  were  still  in  existence; 
but  the  trapper's  last  words  had  opened  his  eyes  and 
showed  him  the  real  magnitude  of  his  undertaking. 
•'Whereabouts  in  the  mountains?" 

This  was  a  question,  that  Julian  could  not  answer. 
He  remembered  now  to  have  read  somewhere  that  the 
Eocky  Mountains  covered  an  area  of  980,000  square 
miles.  How  could  he  hope  to  find  his  father  in  such  a 
wilderness  as  that?  He  might  be  in  Mexico,  or  he 
might  be  in  Oregon — Julian  didn't  know.  After  all  he 
had  endured  and  accomplished,  the  obstacles  that  lay  in 
his  path  were  but  just  beginning  to  make  themselves 
manifest.  This  reflection  for  the  moment  utterly  un- 
nerved him,  and  tears  began  to  fall  from  his  eyes.  The 
trapper  removed  his  pipe  from  his  mouth  long  enough 
to  say: 

"Cryin'?" 

"  I  know  it  is  unmanly,"  replied  Julian,  "but  I  can't 
help  it.  I  have  been  through  some  difficulties  lately, 
but  I  can  see  that  there  are  worse  ones  before  me.  But 
I'll  never  give  up — never!" 

"  Stick  to  that  allers,"  said  the  trapper,  now  begin- 
ning to  show  some  interest  in  what  the  boy  had  to  say. 
*'  IS'ever-give-up  has  carried  many  a  feller  through  the 
wust  kind  of  scrapes.  Got  any  friends  out  West?" 

"  Yes,  sir — or,  rather,  I  had  a  few  years  ago;  but  I 
don't  know  where  to  find  them.  Did  you  ever  hear  of 
Major  Mortimer?" 

"  I  b'lieve  I've  heerd  his  name  spoke/' 

"  Do  you  know  where  ho  lives?" 

"  I  can't  jest  say  I  do  exactly.  T liar's  only  two  or 
three  men  who  can  tell  whar  he  is  now,  but  I  know 
whar  he  used  to  live." 


134  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

"  He  is  my  father. " 

"I  know  it." 

"You  do?"  cried  Julian.  He  looked  at  the  man  in 
utter  bewilderment,  and  arose  hastily  to  his  feet. 
"  Good-day,  sir,"  said  he.  "  I  am  obliged  to  you  for 
the  information  you  gave  me  about  that  wagon  train." 

The  trapper  made  no  reply.  He  took  his  pipe  out  of 
his  mouth  and  looked  after  the  boy  as  he  jumped  off 
the  steps  and  hurried  down  the  street,  and  when  he  dis- 
appeared he  arose,  thrust  his  hands  in  his  pockets  and 
sauntered  after  him.  What  would  Julian  have  thought 
if  he  had  known  that  he  was  running  away  from  the 
only  friend  he  had  east  of  the  mountains? 

"I  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  any  one  who  has  ever 
seen  or  heard  of  me,"  soliloquized  the  boy,  as  he  hur- 
ried along,  looking  into  the  different  stores  he  passed. 
"How  does  it  come,  I  wonder,  that  so  mauy^men  whom 
I  never  saw  before  know  me?  I  am  going  to  depend 
upon  myself  until  I  am  satisfied  that  I  am  out  of  danger. 
If  Sanders  makes  his  appearance  again  I  will  send  him 
about  his  business.  I  will  go  out  with  that  wagon  train, 
and  perhaps  before  I  reach  the  mountains  I  shall  find 
some  man  who  doesn't  know  me,  and  who  can  give  me 
the  information  I  want.  This  is  the  place  I  am  looking 
for." 

He  stopped  in  front  of  a  store,  where  a  boy  about  his 
own  age  was  at  work  taking  down  the  shutters.  It  ap- 
peared to  be  a  sort  of  variety  store,  for  clothing  and 
furnishing  goods  were  displayed  in  one  of  the  windows, 
and  weapons  and  saddlery  in  the  other. 

Julian  entered,  and  when  he  came  out  again,  a  quarter 
of  an  hour  afterward,  he  had  made  as  great  a  change  in 
his  appearance  as  Sanders  did  during  the  short  time  he 
remained  in  the  Hunter's  Home.  He  was  dressed  in  a 
full  Mexican  suit,  which  the  polite  and  attentive  clerk 
had  made  him  believe  was  just  the  tiling  to  wear  during 
a  journey  across  the  plains,  and  in  the  saddle-bags, 
which  he  carried  over  his  shoulder,  was  another  and  a 
finer  suit  of  the  same  description,  as  well  as  a  small 
supply  of  powder  and  lead,  a  brace  of  revolvers,  and 


SILAS  ROPER,    THE  GUIDE.  135 

several  other  articles  of  which  he  thought  lie  might 
stand  in  need.  On  his  arm  he  carried  a  poncho — a 
rubber  blanket  with  a  hole  in  the  center — which  was  to 
be  used  in  lieu  of  an  umbrella  in  rainy  weather. 

When  he  came  out  and  bent  his  steps  toward  the 
hotel,  a  tall  fellow  in  buckskin,  who  was  loaning  against 
an  awning  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  straight- 
ened up  and  followed  after  him.  When  he  sat  down  to 
his  breakfast  the  same  man  walked  through  the  hall, 
and  looked  in  at  the  dining-room;  and  when,  after  pay- 
ing his  bill  at  the  hotel,  he  came  out  with  all  his 
weapons  and  luggage,  and  sprung  upon  his  horse,  the 
man  in  buckskin  disappeared  down  a  neighboring  street, 
and  presently  came  back  again,  mounted  on  a  large 
cream-colored  mustang,  and  rode  in  pursuit  of  Julian. 

Our  hero  found  that  the  information  the  strange 
trapper  had  given  him  concerning  the  wagon  train  was 
correct.  The  emigrants  had  been  encamped  on  a  com- 
mon a  short  distance  from  the  hotel,  and  when  Julian 
came  up  with  them  they  were  all  on  the  move.  The 
road  in  advance  of  him  was  dotted  with  white  wagon- 
covers  as  far  as  his  eyes  could  reach.  It  was  a  novel 
and  interesting  sight  to  him,  and  he  soon  forgot  his 
troubles  in  watching  what  was  going  on  around  him. 
The  day  that  he  had  thought  of  and  lived  for  so  long 
had  arrived  at  last,  and  he  was  fairly  on  his  way  to  the 
mountains.  The  road  the  emigrants  intended  to  follow 
might  not  lead  him  to  his  home,  but  what  of  that?  It 
was  enough  for  him  to  know  that  it  crossed  the  mount- 
ains somewhere. 

Billy,  being  in  high  mettle,  insisted  on  going  ahead, 
and  his  rider  allowing  him  a  free  rein,  was  carried  at  a 
swinging  gallop  along  the  entire  length  of  the  train 
until  he  arrived  at  the  foremost  wagons.  The  emigrants 
all  seemed  to  be  in  excellent  spirits,  and  Julian  heard 
them  laughing  and  talking  with  one  another  as  he 
dashed  by.  On  the  way  he  passed  several  boys,  who 
were  racing  their  horses  along  the  road,  now  and  then 
stopping  to  call  back  to  their  parents  and  friends  in  the 
wagons.  Their  merriment  had  an  effect  upon  Julian 


]3G  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

It  made  him  contrast  their  situation  with  his  own.  In 
all  that  wagon  train  there  was  no  one  to  greet  him,  no 
one  who  knew  how  he  longed  for  a  word  of  sympathy 
and  encouragement  from  somebody,  and  no  one  who 
cared  for  him  or  his  affairs. 

"But  I  am  free!"  said  the  boy,  who  was  not  long  in 
finding  some  crumbs  of  comfort  with  which  to  solace 
himself.  "I  can  go  where  I  please,  and  there  is  no 
Jack  Bowles  to  dog  my  footstep,  and  beat  me  with  his 
rawhide.  I  can  eat,  sleep  and  wi:lk  about  in  perfect 
security,  knowing  that  there  is  no  one  to  molest  me.  I 
am  leaving  behind  me  Richard  Mortimer,  Sanders  and 
all  the  rest  of  my  secret  enemies,  and  the  dangers  and 
difficulties  I  have  yet  to  encounter  will  be  such  as  I 
know  how  to  meet.  If  I  do  not  find  my  home  and 
friends  before  my  money  is  gone,  I  have  a  good  horse 
and  rifle,  and  I  know  how  to  shoot  and  trap.  I  shall 
be  able  to  take  care  of  myself." 

There  were  several  men  riding  in  company  in  advance 
of  the  train,  and  not  wishing  to  intrude  upon  them,  Ju- 
lian fell  in  behind,  and  during  the  whole  of  that  fore- 
noon never  spoke  a  word  to  any  one.  When  noon  came 
the  wagons  began  to  draw  off  into  the  woods  one  by 
one,  and  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour  the  entire  train  had 
come  to  a  halt,  and  preparations  for  dinner  were  actively 
going  on.  Julian,  hungry  and  lonely,  would  have  been 
glad  of  an  invitation  to  join  one  of  the  happy  parties 
that  were  scattered  about  among  the  trees,  but  no  one 
noticed  him.  He  dismounted  a  little  apart  from  the 
rest  of  the  emigrants,  and  after  tying  his  horse  to  a 
tree,  spread  his  poncho  upon  the  ground,  and  was 
about  to  begin  an  attack  upon  the  small  supply  of 
crackers  and  cheese  stowed  away  in  his  saddle-bags, 
when  some  one  spoke  to  him. 

"Wai,  my  lad,  its  grub  time,"  said  a  familiar  voice. 

Julian  looked  up,  and  there,  leaning  tipon  a  rifle  that 
an  ordinary  man  could  scarcely  have  raised  to  his  shoul- 
der, stood  the  tall  trapper  whom  he  had  met  in  the 
streets  of  St.  Joseph.  At  the  sight  of  him  his  old 
fears  were  revived  with  redoubled  force. 


SILAS  ROPER,    THE  GUIDE.  137 

"Here's  one  enemy  I  haven't  left  behind  me,"  thought 
Julian.  "  I  must  still  be  on  the  lookout  for  treachery. 
I  know  it  is  dinner-time,"  he  added,  aloud;  "and  I  am 
just  about  to  take  advantage  of  it." 

"In  what  way?  I  don't  see  that  you  have  got  any- 
thing to  eat." 

"I  have,  nevertheless,"  replied  the  boy,  laying  his 
hand  on  his  saddle-bags. 

"  Do  you  keep  it  in  thar?"  asked  the  trapper,  with  a 
laugh.  "  How  long  do  you  think  it'll  last  you?" 

"A  day  or  two;  and  when  it  is  gone  my  rifle  must 
supply  my  larder.  There  must  be  an  abundance  of 
game  on  the  plains." 

"Humph!  That  shows  how  much  you  know  'bout 
prairie  life.  Sometimes  thar's  game  an'  sometimes  thar 
hain't.  An'  sometimes  when  we  know  thar's  plenty  of 
buffaler  an'  antelope  only  a  little  ways  off,  we  can't  go 
out  to  shoot  'em  fur  fear  of  the  Injuns.  What'll  you 
do  under  them  sarcumstances?" 

Julian  didn't  know.  He  would  be  obliged  to  go  to 
bed  hungry,  he  supposed. 

"Yes,  an'  you'll  go  to  bed  hungry  many  a  night  afore 
you  see  the  mountains,  if  this  is  the  way  you're  goin'  to 
do  business,"  continued  the  trapper.  "  We  can  do  bet- 
ter'n  this  fur  you.  Come  into  our  mess;  we'd  be  glad 
to  have  you." 

Julian  thanked  the  man  for  his  kind  offer,  but  took 
time  to  consider  before  replying.  The  interest  his  new 
acquaintance  seemed  to  take  in  his  welfare  made  him 
suspicious,  and  he  wanted  to  keep  as  far  away  from  him 
as  possible.  But,  after  all,  if  the  trapper  had  any  de- 
signs upon  him,  what  difference  would  it  make  whether 
Julian  remained  at  one  end  of  the  wagon  train  or  the 
other?  It  would  certainly  be  better  to  make  sure  of 
plenty  to  eat  during  the  journey  than  to  depend  upon 
his  rifle;  and,  if  he  saw  anything  in  the  trapper's  actions 
to  confirm  his  suspicions,  he  could  easily  avoid  being 
left  alone  with  him. 

He  arose  and  picked  up  his  saddle-bags,  and  the  trap- 
per, who  had  waited  patiently  for  an  answer  to  his  invi 


138  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

tation,  shouldered  his  rifle  and  led  the  way  through  the 
woods,  presently  stopping  at  one  of  the  wagons,  beside 
which  a  party  of  three  men  were  seated  on  the  ground 
.eating  their  dinner. 

These  looked  curiously  at  Julian  as  he  came  up,  and 
seemed  to  be  waiting  for  the  trapper  to  tell  why  he  had 
brought  him  there;  but  as  he  did  not  appear  to  think 
that  any  explanation  was  necessary,  they  made  way  for 
the  boy,  and  waving  their  hands  toward  the  plates  con- 
taining the  corn-bread  and  bacon,  went  on  with  their 
conversation. 

The  trapper  soon  satisfied  his  appetite,  and  mount- 
ing his  horse,  which  was  grazing  close  by,  rode  off,  leav- 
ing Julian  alone  with  the  three  men.  He  listened  to 
their  conversation,  and  soon  learned  that  they  were 
from  an  Eastern  State,  that  they  had  never  been  West 
before,  and  that  their  destination  was  the  gold  mines  of 
California. 

This  silenced  some  of  Julian's  fears,  and  finally,  ven- 
turing to  inquire  who  the  trapper  was,  he  was  told  that 
his  name  was  Silas  Roper,  and  that  he  Avas  the  chief 
man  of  the  wagon  train — the  guide.  The  men  were 
enthusiastic  in  their  praises  of  him,  and  if  they  told 
the  truth,  as  Julian  hoped  they  did,  Silas  was  one  in 
whom  he  could  well  afford  to  confide. 

Our  hero  then  explained  how  he  came  to  be  brought 
into  the  mess,  following  up  the  story  with  as  much  of 
his  history  as  he  was  willing  the  men  should  know,  and 
their  hearty  words  of  sympathy  and  welcome  placed  him 
at  his  ease  at  once,  and  almost  made  him  believe  that  at 
last  he  had  found  real  friends. 

While  the  dinner  was  in  progress  a  horseman  came 
leisurely  down  the  road,  gazing  earnestly  at  every  group 
of  emigrants  he  passed,  as  if  he  Avere  searching  for  some 
one.  When  he  reached  the  place  where  Julian  and  the 
three  men  were  seated,  he  drew  rein  with  an  exclama- 
tion of  surprise  and  satisfaction,  and  sat  motionless  in 
his  saddle,  staring  at  them  as  if  debating  some  point  in 
his  mind.  Having  at  last  decided  upon  something  he 
rode  up  to  the  party  and  accosted  them. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

ACEOSS   THE    PLAINS. 

HE  MOMENT  Julian's  eyes  rested  upon  the 
strange  horseman  he  asked  himself  where  he 
had  seen  him  before.  There  was  something 
about  him  that  looked  familiar.  He  was 
dressed  in  rough  clothing,  like  the  rest  of  the  emigrants, 
wore  high-top  boots  and  a  broad  felt  hat.  His  hair  was 
cut  close  to  his  head,  and  his  face,  which  was  dark  and 
haughty,  was  clean  shaven;  although  the  blue  shade 
about  his  chin  and  upper  lip  showed  that  goatee  and 
mustache  had  recently  been  growing  there.  His  voice 
sounded  strangely  familiar,  too,  although  Julian  could 
not  recollect  where  he  had  heard  it  before. 

The  man  announced  that  he  Avas  bound  for  San  Fran- 
cisco, and  that  having  been  obliged  to  make  his  prepara- 
tions for  the  journey  in  great  haste,  in  order  to  join  that 
wagon  train,  he  had  had  no  opportunity  to  lay  in  a 
supply  of  provisions.  As  their  moss  appeared  to  be 
small  he  would  be  glad  to  join  it,  if  the  men  had  no 
objections,  and  was  willing  to  pay  liberally  for  the  privi- 
lege. Julian's  new  friends  had  no  objection  whatever. 
They  liked  good  company,  and  if  the  stranger  would 
agree  to  pay  his  share  of  the  provisions  he  might  come 
in  and  welcome.  And  so  the  matter  was  settled,  and 
the  new-comer  became  a  member  of  Julian's  mess. 

Our  hero  had  never  carried  a  lighter  heart  than  he 
did  during  that  afternoon's  ride.  He  no  longer  felt  that 
he  was  utterly  forsaken  in  the  world.  He  had  some  one 
to  talk  to  now — men  who  had  never  seen  or  heard  of 
him  before,  who  did  not  even  know  his  name,  but  who 
nevertheless  sympathized  with  him  and  took  an  interest 
in  his  affairs.  And  it  Avas  because  these  new-found 
friends  were  strangers  to  him  that  Julian  felt  safe  in 


140  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

their  company.  He  was  still  suspicious  of  the  guide, 
notwithstanding  the  high  terms  of  praise  in  which  he 
had  been  spoken  of  by  the  members  of  his  mess,  and  he 
disliked  the  appearance  of  the  new  emigrant  also. 

The  latter  seemed  desirous  of  cultivating  the  boy's 
acquaintance.  He  addressed  a  good  many  of  his  re- 
marks to  him,  and  whenever  he  said  anything  that  he 
thought  to  be  particularly  interesting  or  witty,  he  would 
look  at  Julian  and  wink.  This  was  quite  enough  to  ex- 
cite the  boy's  suspicions;  but  he  comforted  himself  with 
'the  thought  that  neither  the  guide  nor  the  emigrant 
would  dare  molest  him  in  the  presence  of  the  whole 
wagon  train,  and  that  he  would  take  care  never  to  be 
left  alone  with  them. 

The  afternoon  passed  quickly  away,  and  it  was  sunset 
almost  before  Julian  knew  it.  His  day  in  the  saddle  had 
severely  tested  his  endurance,  and  he  was  glad  indeed 
when  the  train  came  to  a  halt.  Being  desirous  of  show- 
ing his  new  friends  that  he  appreciated  their  kindness 
to  him,  he  assisted  them  in  making  the  camp,  unhar- 
nessing the  mules,  providing  the  wood  for  fire,  and 
bringing  the  water  with  which  to  fill  the  camp-kettle. 
The  guide,  whom  he  had  not  seen  during  the  whole  of 
the  afternoon,  made  his  appearance  when  supper  was 
ready,  and  so  did  the  emigrant;  but  the  latter  did  not 
approach  the  fire.  He  stopped  at  a  respectful  distance, 
looked  hard  at  Silas,  whose  back  was  turned  toward 
him,  and  then  walked  quickly  out  of  sight.  Julian, 
astonished  at  his  singular  behavior,  looked  around  at 
the  other  members  of  the  mess  to  see  if  any  beside  him- 
self had  observed  it;  but  the  men  were  too  busy  with 
their  corn-bread  and  bacon  to  pay  any  attention  to  what 
was  going  on  outside  their  own  camp. 

Supper  over,  Silas  and  his  companions  stretched  them- 
selves on  their  blankets  to  enjoy  their  pipes,  while  Ju- 
lian busied  himself  in  gathering  up  the  dishes  and  pack- 
ing the  remains  of  the  supper  away  in  the  wagon.  This 
done,  he  went  out  for  a  stroll  down  the  road;  he  wanted 
to  see  how  the  camp  looked  by  moonlight. 

The  day's  journey,  although  it  had  been  a  hard  and 


ACROSS  THE  PLAINS.  141 

fatiguing  one,  seemed  to  have  had  no  effect  i;pon  the 
spirits  of  the  emigrants,  who  were  as  merry  and  laughed 
and  sang  as  loudly  as  when  they  left  St.  Joseph.  They 
seemed  to  be  supremely  happy  and  contented,  and 
Julian  did  not  wonder  at  it.  They  had  everything 
their  hearts  could  desire  to  make  them  happy,  and  he 
had  everything  to  make  him  miserable.  If  he  had  had 
parents  and  brothers  and  sisters  there  he  would  have 
laughed  too,  and  felt  as  light  of  heart  as  the  best  of 
them.  But  there  was  not  a  soul  with  whom  he  could 
claim  relationship  in  less  than  a  thousand  miles,  and 
perhaps  not  in  the  world.  Julian  was  falling  into  his 
melancholy  mood  again,  and  he  wanted  to  be  alone;  the 
sounds  of  merriment  grated  harshly  on  his  ears.  He 
left  the  camp  and  hurried  down  the  road.  On  he  went, 
regardless  of  the  flight  of  time,  through  the  woods  in 
which  the  wagons  had  halted,  to  the  prairie  that  lay 
heyond,  brooding  over  the  past  and  speculating  on  the 
future. 

How  long  his  fit  of  abstraction  continued  he  could  not 
have  told ;  but  when  he  came  to  himself  the  camp-fires 
were  out  of  sight,  and  he  was  standing  on  an  extensive 
plain  which  stretched  away  before  him  as  far  as  his  eyes 
could  reach,  without  even  a  tree  or  bush  to  break  the 
monotony.  He  was  done;  there  was  not  a  living  thing 
within  the  range  of  his  vision.  This  was  Julian's  first 
glimpse  of  the  prairie,  and  it  was  not  without  its  effect 
upon  him.  He  gazed  in  wonder.  What  an  immense 
region  it  was  that  lay  between  him  and  his  home — all 
India  could  be  put  into  it  twice,  he  had  read  somewhere 
— and  until  that  moment  what  a  ridiculously  faint  con- 
ception he  had  had  of  it!  What  would  he  not  have  given 
to  have  been  able  to  tell  what  lay  beyond  it?  He 
listened  but  not  a  sound  came  to  his  ears.  An  unearthly 
silence  brooded  over  the  vast  expanse — a  silence  so  deep 
that  he  could  hear  the  beating  of  his  own  heart.  Julian 
was  awed,  almost  frightened  by  it;  and  turning  quickly 
about  he  started  for  the  camp  at  the  top  of  his  speed. 

Perhaps  Julian  would  have  been  really  frightened  if 
he  had  known  that  he  was  not  so  utterly  alone  as  he 


142  JULIAN  MORTIMER, 

imagined  himself  to  be.  There  were  no  less  than  four 
persons  in  sight  of  him  all  the  while,  and  part  of  the 
time,  five.  Three  of  them  were  Sanders  and  the  men 
who  had  left  St.  Joseph  in  his  company.  Having 
watched  the  train  from  a  safe  distance  all  that  day,  they 
entered  the  camp  as  soon  as  it  grew  dark  to  satisfy 
themselves  that  the  boy  of  whom  they  were  in  search 
was  among  the  emigrants.  They  saw  him  as  he  strolled 
through  the  woods  and  followed,  hoping  to  find  an 
opportunity  to  make  a  prisoner  of  him.  The  fourth 
man,  who  watched  every  move  Julian  made  daring  the 
time  he  remained  within  sight  of  him,  and  Avho  carried 
in  his  hand  a  revolver  cocked  and  ready  for  use,  was  the 
emigrant;  and  the  fifth  was  Silas  Koper.  The  latter, 
unlike  the  others,  who  made  use  of  every  tuft  of  grass  to 
cover  their  bodies,  walked  erect  down  the  road,  keeping 
always  within  rifle-range  of  Julian,  whose  form,  being 
clad  in  dark  garments,  was  thrown  out  in  bold  relief 
against  the  gray  background  of  the  prairie.  The 
emigrant  saw  him,  if  Julian  did  not,  and  for  some 
reasons  of  his  own  thought  it  best  to  abandon  his  pursuit 
of  the  boy.  He  concealed  himself  in  the  grass  until  the 
trapper  had  passed  on,  and  then  scrambled  to  his  feet 
and  slunk  away  in  the  direction  of  the  camp. 

Julian  had  not  retraced  his  steps  very  far  before  he 
began  to  wish  most  heartily  that  he  had  turned  back  long 
ago.  There  was  some  one  following  him — following, 
too,  for  the  purpose  and  with  the  determination  of  over- 
taking him.  His  ears  told  him  that  such  was  'the  fact, 
and  there  was  no  need  that  he  should  look  back  to  make 
sure  of  it — he  dared  not  do  it.  He  heard  the  sound  of 
the  pursuit  very  plainly — the  stealthy,  cautious  patter 
of  moccasine'd  feet  on  the  hard  road,  which  grew  louder 
and  more  distinct  every  instant.  Who  was  his  pursuer? 
The  guide,  beyond  a  doubt,  for  he  was  the  only  man  in 
the  train  who  wore  moccasins.  Fear  lent  Julian  wings, 
and  he  made  headway  astonishingly;  but  there  was  some 
one  beside  the  clumsy  Jack  Bowles  in  pursuit  of  him 
now,  and  the  lightness  of  foot  that  had  brought  him  off 
with  flying  colors  in  his  race  with  that  worthy  could  not 
avail  him. 


ACROSS  THE  PLAINS.  143 

"It's  no  use,  Julian,"  said  a  gruff  voice  behind  him. 
"  I'm  a  comiu',  an'  if  I  don't  overhaul  you  thar  ain't 
no  snakes.  You're  ketched,  an'  you  might  as  well  stop 
an'  give  in." 

But  our  hero  was  not  one  of  the  kind  who  give  in. 
He  strained  every  nerve  to  escape,  but  his  pursuer 
gained  rapidly.  He  was  close  behind  him  now — Julian 
could  hear  his  heavy  breathing;  but  just  as  he  was  ex- 
pecting to  feel  his  strong  grasp  on  his  collar,  a  blinding 
sheet  of  flame  shot  out  of  the  gloom  directly  in  advance 
of  him,  and  something  whistled  through  the  air  close 
to  his  ear.  In  another  minute  Julian  had  run  squarely 
into  the  arms  of  Silas  Eoper,  and  his  pursuer  had  faced 
about  and  was  making  his  way  through  the  tall  grass  as 
if  a  legion  of  wolves  were  close  at  his  heels. 

"I  reckon  I  thro  wed  away  that  chunk  of  lead,  didn't 
I?"  said  Silas.  "You  needn't  be  skeered  now.  I 
know  you  ain't  hurt,  'cause  I've  had  my  eyes  on  you  all 
the  while." 

Julian,  weak  with  terror  and  utterly  bewildered  to 
find  the  guide  in  front,  when  he  had  all  the  while  sup- 
posed him  to  be  behind  and  in  pursuit  of  him,  could 
not  reply.  13ut  if  he  was  surprised  at  this,  he  was  still 
more  amazed  at  the  manner  in  which  Silas  received  him. 
He  did  not  show  the  least  desire  to  do  him  an  injury, 
but  on  the  contrary  extended  his  arm  around  him  pro- 
tectingly,  and  supported  him  until  he  had  somewhat 
recovered  himself. 

"  You're  lively  on  your  legs  fur  a  little  one,"  con- 
tinued the  trapper,  "but  you're  well  nigh  give  put, 
ain't  you?  If  thar  had  been  just  a  trifle  more  light 
Sanders  would  have  been  past  harmin'  you  now." 

"Who?"  gasped  Julian. 

"  Sanders.  You  didn't  think  to  hear  of  him  again 
so  soon,  did  you?" 

"  I  never  expected  to  hear  from  him  again." 

"  Sho!  Wai,  you'll  hear  and  see  more  of  him  durin* 
the  next  few  weeks  than  you'll  like,  /  tell  you.  That 
was  him  a  chasin'  you,  'cause  I've  seed  him  often  enough 
to  know  him,"  added  the  trapper,  leading  the  way  to- 
ward the  camp,  loading  his  rifle  as  he  went. 


i  44  JULIA  JV  MOR  TIMER. 

"  You  said  you  were  watching  me,"  said  Julian. 
"  Why  did  you  do  it?" 
"  'Cause  I'm  a  friend  to  you." 

"  I  begin  to  believe  you  are,"  replied  the  boy,  casting 
all  his  suspicions  to  the  winds.  "  If  I  had  been  sure  of 
it  to-day  when  I  first  saw  you,  I  shouldn't  have  run 
away  from  you;  but  I  have  seen  so  much  treachery 
lately  that  I  distrust  everybody." 

' '  I  can  easy  b'lieve  that.  I  know  purty  near  what 
Dick  an'  Ned  have  been  up  to." 

"  You  told  me  this  morning  that  you  know  who  I 
am.     Of  course,  then,  you  know  my  father." 
Sartin  I  do." 
ls  he  alive?" 
'He  is." 

'And  my  mother?" 

'No,  she's  dead — died  when  you  was  a  little  feller." 
'And  my  brother?" 
'He's  all  right." 

'  Can  you  take  me  to  my  father?" 
I  reckon  not." 
What's  the  reason?" 

'  'Cause  I  don't  know  whar  he  is — that's  the  reason. 
I'll  allers  be  a  friend  to  you,  howsomever." 

During  the  walk  to  the  camp  Julian  asked  innumer- 
able questions  about  his  home  and  friends,  but  the  in- 
formation that  we  have  just  recorded  was  all  he  could 
extort  from  the  trapper.  Ho  taxed  his  ingenuity  to  the 
utmost,  and  propounded  his  inquiries  in  a  dozen  different 
ways,  but  Silas  could  neither  be  surprised  or  coaxed  into 
revealing  more  than  he  had  already  told.  Nor  did  Ju- 
lian ever  hear  anything  more  from  him,  although  he 
saw  very  plainly  that  the  trapper  knew  all  about  him, 
and  could  easily  gratify  his  curiosity  if  he  felt  so  in- 
clined. Day  after  day  he  renewed  his  endeavors  to 
worm  out  some  small  item  of  information,  but  all 
he  could  ascertain  positively  was  that  his  father  and 
brother  were  alive  and  well,  and  with  that  he  was 
obliged  to  be  content.  Of  another  thing  he  was  also 
pretty  certain,  and  that  was,  that  he  should  not  find  his 


ACROSS  THE  PLAINS.  145 

home — if  he  found  it  at  all — the  pleasant  and  inviting 
place  that  Sanders  had  represented  it  to  be.  But  in 
this  respect  he  was  not  much  disappointed,  for  he  had 
built  no  hopes  upon  anything  his  false  friend  had  told 
him. 

During  the  journey  across  the  plains  nothing  worthy 
of  record  occurred  to  vary  the  monotony  of  Julian's 
life.  He  met  with  no  more  adventures,  for  Sanders 
had  disappeared,  and  although  the  boy  was  certain  that 
Silas  could  tell  what  had  become  of  him,  all  his  ques- 
tioning failed  to  elicit  the  desired  information.  The 
emigrant  kept  himself  as  much  as  possible  out  of  sight. 
The  members  of  the  mess  expressed  some  surprise  at 
his  abrupt  desertion  of  them,  and  asked  one  another 
what  could  have  been  the  occasion  of  it;  but  no  one 
knew,  and  in  a  day  or  two  the  matter  was  forgotten. 

As  the  days  progressed  Julian's  f rindship  for  and  con- 
fidence in  his  silent  friend  steadily  increased.  Silas  on 
his  part  cherished  an  unbounded  affection  for  his  young 
companion,  and  manifested  it  by  a  thousand  little  acts 
of  kindness.  He  beguiled  many  a  weary  mile  of  their 
journey  with  stories  of  what  he  had  seen  and  done,  and 
descriptions  of  life  in  the  Far  AVest,  but  said  not  a  word 
about  Julian's  affairs  unless  he  was  asked. 

At  last  the  Eocky  Mountains  began  to  loom  up  before 
them,  and  on  the  same  day  Silas,  who  as  usual  was  rid- 
ing in  advance  of  the  train  with  Julian,  pointed  out  a 
hostile  Indian  on  the  summit  of  a  distant  swell. 

"How  do  you  know  he  is  hostile?"  asked  Julian. 
"  Can  you  see  the  paint  on  his  face  at  this  distance:"' 

"No,  but  I  know  who's  been  a  smokin'  an  a  talkin' 
with  his  tribe  around  the  council  fires,"  replied  the 
trapper.  "You  think  you've  been  through  a  heap 
since  you  fust  seed  Dick  Mortimer,  and  p'raps  you 
have;  but  you'll  go  through  a  heap  more  if  you  live  a 
week  longer.  You  needn't  be  afeared  of  the  Injuns, 
howsomever,"  added  Silas,  seeing  that  the  boy's  cheek 
blanched,  and  that  he  cast  anxious  glances  toward  the 
distant  warrior.  "They  won't  harm  you.  If  every 
man,  woman  and  child  in  the  train  is  massacred,  you'll 
be  kept  safe,  unless  you  are  hurt  by  accident." 


146  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

"What  makes  you  think  so?" 

"  I  don't  think  so,  I  know  it;  but  I  hain't  got  time  to 
talk  about  it  now,  'cause  I  must  ride  back  an'  keep  the 
wagons  closer  together." 

This  was  always  the  way  with  the  trapper  after  he 
had  said  something  that  Julian  was  particularly  anxious 
to  have  explained — he  had  no  time  to  say  more  on  the 
subject  just  then,  but  must  see  to  something  that 
demanded  his  immediate  attention. 

Julian  was  greatly  perplexed  by  what  he  had  just 
heard.  It  sounded  very  unreasonable,  but  he  did  not 
doubt  the  truth  of  it,  for  he  had  learned  to  put  implicit 
faith  in  the  trapper's  word. 

In  two  days  more  Bridger's  Pass  was  reached,  and  the 
emigrants  made  their  camp  for  the  last  time. 

We  have  already  related  how  Julian  was  enticed  away 
from  the  wagon  train  by  the  outlaws,  who  carried  him 
on  horseback  to  Reginald  Mortimer's  rancho,  and  that 
during  the  ride  he  heard  the  sounds  of  a  fierce  battle 
going  on  between  the  Indians  and  the  emigrants,  and 
saw  the  train  consumed  by  fire. 

We  have  also  told  of  his  introduction  to  the  man  who 
called  himself  his  uncle,  and  described  the  reception 
that  gentleman  extended  to  him.  He  was  conducted 
into  Mr.  Mortimer's  sleeping-apartment,  and  saw  the 
outlaws  receive  a  heavy  reward  for  delivering  him  into 
the  hands  of  the  owner  of  the  rancho,  after  which 
Sanders  and  his  companion  took  their  departure,  and 
Julian  was  left  alone  with  his  new  relative. 

Then  for  the  first  time  he  raised  his  eyes  and  took  a 
fair  look  at  the  man.  Surely  he  had  seen  that  face  and 
figure  somewhere.  They  were  those  of  Richard  Morti- 
mer. He  had  left  him  on  board  a  flatboat  more  than  a 
thousand  miles  away,  and  here  he  was  in  the  mountains 
where  he  least  expected  to  see  him,  ready  now  and  able 
to  carry  out  his  plans  against  Julian's  life. 

One  glance  at  him  was  enough  for  our  hero,  who, 
with  a  cry  of  terror,  turned  and  ran  toward  the  door. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE    EMIGRANT    AGAIN". 

TOP  ! "  cried  Reginald  Mortimer,  in  great  as- 
tonishment.    "  Come  back  here!" 

Julian  heard  the  command,  but  he  did  not 

heed  it.      He  strove  with  nervous  haste  to 

open  the  door,  but  the  knob  refused  to  turn  for  him. 
He  dashed  himself  against  it  with  frantic  violence;  but 
the  stout  oak  planks  had  been  intended  to  resist  a 
stronger  force  than  he  could  bring  to  bear  upon  them, 
a*nd  they  did  not  even  tremble  beneath  his  weight. 

Reginald  Mortimer  appeared  to  be  utterly  confounded 
by  the  boy's  behavior.  He  watched  his  movements  for 
a  few  seconds,  and  said: 

"Julian,  you  could  not  leave  the  rancho  if  you  were 
to  effect  an  entrance  into  the  hall.  Shall  I  call  Pedro, 
and  tell  him  to  let  you  out?" 

It  was  now  Julian's  turn  to  be  astonished.  He  had 
expected  violence,  but  was  not  prepared  for  the  accents 
of  kindness.  He  looked  timidly  at  the  man,  and  took 
his  hand  off  the  door-knob. 

"  Come  here  and  tell  me  all  about  it,"  continued  Reg- 
inald Mortimer  in  a  mild  tone.  "Why  should  a  glance 
at  me  alarm  you  ?  Is  there  anything  so  very  frightful 
about  me?" 

"  No,  sir;  but  yon  are  the  man  who  stole  me  away 
from  my  home  and  took  me  to  live  with  Jack  Bowles. " 

The  owner  of  the  rancho  opened  his  eyes,  but  said 
nothing. 

"And  you  came  to  his  house  not  long  ago  and  offered 
him  money  to  drown  me  in  the  Missouri  River,"  added 
Julian. 

Reginald  Mortimer  was  profoundly  astonished.  After 
hesitating  a  moment,  as  if  undecided  how  to  act,  he 


148  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

extended  his  hand  to  Julian,  and  leading  him  to  a  seat 
on  the  sofa,  placed  himself  beside  him. 

"  My  dear  boy,"  said  he,  kindly,  "  what  delusion  is 
this  you  are  laboring  under?  You  have  made  a  great 
mistake.  That  this  house  is  your  own,  and  that  you 
will  some  day  have  a  better  right  here  than  I  or  any 
body  else,  I  admit.  And  that  you  were  stolen  away 
long  years  ago  by  some  bad  man  is  equally  true;  but  I 
knew  nothing  of  it  until  after  it  was  done,  and  neither 
did  I  know  where  you  were,  for  all  my  efforts  to  find 
you  were  unavailing.  I  never  heard  of  Jack  Bowles 
before.  I  have  not  the  least  idea  where  he  lives,  and 
neither  do  I  know  who  the  man  was  who  wanted  to 
drown  you  in  the  river.  It  certainly  was  not  I." 

"  Then  it  was  some  one  who  looks  exactly  like  you/* 
said  Julian. 

"  There  is  but  one  person  in  the  world  who  resembles 
me,  that  I  am  aware  of,  and  that  is  my  cousin — your 
Uncle  Richard.  It  could  not  have  been  he,  for  he  has 
tried  as  hard  to  find  you,  and  is  as  much  interested  in 
your  welfare  as  I  am.  Besides,  he  went  to  Port  Stough- 
ton  two  months  ago  to  shoot  buffaloes,  and  has  not  yet 
returned.  It  could  not  have  been  Sanders  either,  for 
he  does  not  look  at  all  like  me.  More  than  that,  he 
is  a  firm  friend  of  our  family,  and  has  worked  hard  to 
find  you — not  with  any  intention  of  doing  you  an  in- 
jury, but  in  order  to  restore  you  to  your  home  and 
friends  once  more.  You  must  be  dreaming." 

While  Reginald  Mortimer  was  speaking  Julian  was 
looking  him  sharply  in  the  face  and  thinking  busily.  He 
was  not  deceived  by  the  man's  apparent  sincerity. 
Although  greatly  mystified  he  knew  that  he  was  not 
dreaming.  His  thoughts  wandered  back  to  that  memo- 
rable night  on  which  he  had  first  seen  Richard  Mortimer 
at  Jack  Bowies'  cabin.  He  remembered  how  closely  he 
had  scrutinized  his  features  in  order  to  impress  them 
upon  his  memory,  and  when  he  compared  them  with  the 
features  of  the  man  who  was  now  seated  at  his  side  he 
told  himself  that  any  one  not  intimately  acquainted  with 
the  two  gentlemen  would  have  declared  them  to  be  one 


THE  EMIGRANT  AGAIN.  14!) 

and  the  same  person.  But  something  that  just  then 
occurred  to  him  satisfied  him  that  they  could  not  be. 
He  thought  he  must  be  growing  very  dull,  or  else  he 
would  have  known  long  ago  that  the  emigrant  who  had 
joined  the  wagon  train  at  St.  Joseph,  and  watched  all 
his  movements  so  closely  during  the  journey  across  the 
plains,  could  be  none  other  than  Eichard  Mortimer.  He 
wondered  that  he  had  not  thought  of  it  before,  and 
especially  that  he  had  not  recognized  him  when  Sanders 
pronounced  his  name  in  the  reception-room. 

Another  thing  that  suddenly  became  clear  to  him  was 
that  the  trapper,  Sanders,  Avas  the  same  man  who  had 
rescued  him  from  the  smoke-house. 

Julian  saw  the  reason  for  his  pretended  friendship 
now,  and  knew  why  it  was  that  the  man  had  been  so 
anxious  to  accompany  him  to  the  mountains.  He  wanted 
to  make  85, 000  by  delivering  him  into  the  hands  of 
Reginald  Mortimer.  But  there  were  still  a  good  many 
things  that  he  could  not  understand,  and  he  wondered  if 
they  would  ever  be  made  plain  to  him. 

"  You  are  greatly  in  need  of  rest,"  said  Mr.  Mortimer, 
laying  his  hand  gently  on  the  boy's  shoulder.  "  You 
are  completely  exhausted.  Go  to  bed  now,  and  I  will 
talk  these  affairs  over  with  you  in  the  morning.  I  will 
then  explain  everything.  If  you  feel  timid  in  this 
gloomy  old  house  I  will  tell  Pedro  to  make  you  a  bed 
here  on  the  sofa." 

"  I  would  rather  be  alone,  if  you  please,"  replied 
Julian.  "  I  have  been  through  a  good  deal  to-night, 
and  I  want  time  to  think  it  over.  My  mind  is  greatly 
confused." 

Reginald  Mortimer  lighted  a  caudle,  and  after  unfas- 
tening the  ponderous  spring-lock  which  held  the  door 
and  prevented  Julian's  escape  from  the  room,  he  con- 
ducted him  along  the  main  hall  for  a  short  distance,  and 
turned  into  another  that  ran  at  right  angles  with  it, 
finally  ushering  him  into  his  sleeping  apartment. 

''This  is  your  room,"  said  he.  "'  You  are  master 
here,  and  if  you  will  take  the  trouble  to  look  about  you, 
you  will  find  that  I  have  neglected  nothing  that  I 


150  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

thought  would  add  to  your  comfort.  Now,  if  you  will 
dismiss  your  fears,  if  you  have  any,  as  I  hope  you  will, 
for  they  are  certainly  groundless — you  can  enjoy  a 
refreshing  sleep.  You  need  not  hurry  yourself  in  the 
morning,  for  I  will  wait  breakfast  for  you.  Good-night, 
and  pleasant  dreams." 

Eeginald  Mortimer  placed  the  candle  upon  the  center- 
table  and  went  out,  closing  the  door  after  him.  Julian 
stood  listening  to  the  sound  of  his  retreating  footsteps, 
and  when  it  had  died  away,  and  he  heard  a  door  open 
and  close  in  some  distant  part  of  the  house,  he  stepped 
carefully  across  the  floor  and  tried  the  lock.  It  was  not 
fastened. 

"  This  looks  as  though  there  might  be  some  truth  in 
that  man's  story,"  said  he  to  himself.  "The  doors  in 
this  rancho — if  that  is  what  the  house  is  called — seem  to 
have  a  way  of  locking  themselves,  and  I  fully  expected 
to  find  myself  a  prisoner.  I'll  see  that  no  one  enters 
here  to-night.  If  Dick  Mortimer  is  still  prowling  around 
he  shall  never  see  the  inside  of  this  room.  And  Reginald 
doesn't  know  that  Dick  is  about  here  at  all.  He  thinks 
he  is  off  on  a  shooting  excursion  at  Fort  Stoughton, 
wherever  that  is.  Dick  evidently  keeps  his  movements 
hidden  from  his  cousin,  and  that  proves  that  he  is  up  to 
something  he  doesn't  want  him  to  know." 

Julian  turned  the  key  in  the  lock  as  he  said  this,  put 
down  the  catch,  and  seeing  two  strong  bolts  on  the  door, 
one  above  and  the  other  below  the  lock,  he  pushed  them 
into  their  sockets.  Not  satisfied  with  this  he  tilted  one 
of  the  chairs  against  the  door,  and  placing  the  back 
under  the  lock,  and  bracing  the  hind  legs  firmly  against 
the  floor,  thus  formed  a  barricade  that  could  not  have 
been  easily  forced  from  the  outside,  even  if  the  lock  and 
bolts  had  been  undone. 

This  much  being  accomplished,  Julian  took  his  stand 
in  the  middle  of  the  iloor  and  looked  about  him.  His 
quarters  were  large  and  airy,  and  contained  a  greater 
variety  of  elegant  furniture  than  he  had  ever  seen  before. 
The  floor  was  covered  with  a  soft  carpet  that  gave  out 
no  sound  as  he  stepped  across  it.  The  walls  were  con- 


THE  EMIGRANT  AGAIN.  151 

cealed  by  blue  and  gold  hangings,  and  in  one  corner 
stood  a  comfortable  bed,  which,  with  its  clean  white 
spread  and  pillow-cases,  presented  a  great  contrast  to 
the  miserable  couch  to  which  Julian  had  been  accus- 
tomed for  the  last  eight  years.  Opposite  the  bed  was  a 
huge  lire-place,  and  over  it  was  a  mantel-piece  of  black 
walnut,  on  which  stood  an  ornamental  clock.  In  the 
corner  beside  the  fire-place  was  a  small  book-case,  con- 
taining a  collection  of  works  that  would  have  delighted 
any  boy  who  was  as  fond  of  excitement  and  adventure 
as  Julian.  In  spite  of  the  limited  advantages  he  had 
enjoyed  in  his  old  home  he  had  learned  to  read  and  write, 
and  having  an  all-devouring  passion  for  books,  he  had 
perused  every  thing  that  came  in  his  way.  On  the 
opposite  side  of  the  fire-place  stood  a  finely  carved  ward- 
robe, and  the  first  things  Julian's  eyes  rested  upon  when 
he  opened  the  doors  was  a  double-barrel  shot-gun,  a 
rifle,  and  a  belt  containing  a  revolver. 

"This  is  just  what  I've  been  looking  for,"  said  he 
joyfully,  as  he  drew  the  elegant  six-shooter  from  its 
holster.  "If  I  am  master  of  this  room,  as  that  man 
says  I  am,  I  have  a  right  to  do  as  I  choose.  I  choose  to 
say  that  I  want  to  be  alone  here  to-night.  Dick  Morti- 
mer had  better  keep  his  distance,  and  so  had  those 
strange  people  Sanders  spoke  of,  who  can  go  through 
key-holes,  and  cracks  an  inch  wide,  and  even  solid  stone 
walls.  If  they  trouble  me  I  will  see  if  a  bullet  can  go 
through  them.  J^ow,  where  is  the  ammunition?" 

That  was  a  question  easier  asked  than  answered.  The 
accouterments  belonging  to  the  weapons  were  all  in  the 
wardrobe — the  powder-horn  and  bullet-pouch  depend- 
ing from  the  muzzle  of  the  rifle,  and  the  shot-bag  and 
flask  hanging  from  the  ramrod  of  the  double-barrel;  but 
they  were  empty.  Nor  was  there  any  ammunition  in 
the"  room.  Julian  overhauled  the  drawers  in  the  lower 
part  of  the  book-case,  but  they  contained  nothing  but 
writing  and  drawing  materials.  Then  he  searched  all 
the  drawers  in  the  bureau;  but  although  they  were  filled 
to  overflowing  with  all  sorts  of  trinkets  and  valuables 
(h-ar  to  the  heart  of  youth — nothing  in  the  shape  of 
powder  and  lead  could  be  found. 


152  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

With  a  sigh  of  regret  Julian  returned  the  useless  re- 
volver to  its  holster,  and  throwing  himself  into  a  large 
easy-chair,  which  extended  its  arms  invitingly,  stretched 
his  feet  out  before  him,  thrust  his  hands  into  his  pock- 
ets and  went  off  into  a  reverie. 

"  What  a  change  a  few  short  weeks  have  made  in  my 
circumstances,"  thought  he.  "It  seems  only  yesterday 
that  I  was  living  in  a  den  that  a  respectable  dog  would 
turn  up  his  nose  at,  going  about  clothed  in  rags,  starv- 
ing both  summer  and  winter,  and  beaten  and  sworn  at 
by  every  one  of  the  family.  Now  I  find  myself  under 
the  roof  of  a  man  who  speaks  almost  the  first  kind  words 
to  me  that  I  ever  remember  of  hearing,  who  embraces 
me  and  tells  me  that  he  is  my  uncle,  and  leading  me  to 
a  room  fitted  up  like  a  palace  informs  me  that  I  am  sole 
master  of  it.  And  I  need  not  get  up  in  the  morning  at 
the  first  peep  of  day  to  cut  fire-wood  and  help  Mrs. 
Bowles  lay  the  table  and  cook  corn-dodgers,  but  may 
sleep  as  long  as  I  please,  and  my  breakfast  will  be  kept 
waiting  for  me.  This  man  tells  me,  too,  that  I  shall 
some  day  have  a  better  right  here  than  he,  who  now 
claims  to  be  the  owner  of  the  rancho.  Isn't  it  enough 
to  turn  any  one's  head?  I  will  go  to  sleep  now,  and 
perhaps  in  the  morning  some  of  these  things,  which  now 
seem  to  be  involved  in  such  impenetrable  mystery,  will 
be  clearer  to  me." 

Julian  arose  to  his  feet,  and  having  turned  down  the 
quilts  began  to  divest  himself  of  his  jacket.  Suddenly 
he  paused  and  stood  holding  the  garment  in  his  hand, 
and  looking  first  at  the  candle  on  the  table  and  then  at 
the  hangings  which  concealed  the  walls. 

"I've  heard  and  witnessed  enough  to-night  to  make  a 
coward  of  almost  anybody  except  Silas  Roper,"  thought 
he,  "but  I  believe  I've  got  the  nerve  to  do  it.  I  am 
going  to  see  what  is  on  the  other  side  of  those  curtains. 
If  there  is  any  way  for  that  emigrant,  or  for  those  people 
that  Sanders  spoke  of  to  get  in  here,  I  want  to  know  it. 
I  shouldn't  like  to  wake  up  in  the  night  and  find  them 
prowling  about  my  room.  Gracious!" 

Julian  felt  the  cold  chills  creeping  over  him,  and 


THE  EMIGRANT  AGAIN.  153 

glanced  quickly  about  the  apartment,  half-expecting  to 
see  some  frightful  object  advancing  upon  him  from  some 
dark  corner. 

At  first  he  was  half-inclined  to  pass  the  night  in  the 
easy-chair,  and  never  go  to  sleep  at  all;  but  dismissing 
the  thought  almost  as  soon  as  it  entered  his  mind,  he 
snatched  the  candle  from  the  table  and  hurrying  across 
the  room  raised  the  hangings. 

Nothing  was  to  be  seen  but  the  huge  blocks  of  stone 
which  formed  the  walls.  On  one  side  of  the  room  there 
was  no  opening  except  the  fire-place,  opposite  to  which 
was  the  door.  The  other  two  sides,  as  Julian  discov- 
ered when  he  raised  the  hangings,  were  provided  with 
windows. 

He  placed  his  face  close  to  the  panes,  but  not  even 
the  twinkle  of  a  star  could  be  seen  through  the  gloom. 
Somewhat  surprised  thereat,  Julian  deposited  his  candle 
on  the  floor,  looped  back  the  curtains  and  carefully 
raised  the  window.  It  opened  into  what  appeared  to  be 
a  deep  recess  in  the  wall.  At  the  opposite  side  was  a 
heavy  iron-bound  door,  just  the  size  of  the  window, 
which  swung  inward  as  Julian  drew  the  bolt,  and  then 
he  saw  the  stars  shining  down  upon  him,  and  the  full 
moon  rising  above  the  mountain  tops. 

"  This  house  Avas  certainly  intended  for  a  fort," 
thought  the  boy,  gazing  in  surprise  at  the  massive 
walls  around  him,  which  seemed  strong  enough  to  resist 
the  heaviest  artillery.  "  There  isn't  a  wooden  partition 
in  it  as  far  as  I've  seen.  They  are  all  of  stone,  and 
must  be  six  or  seven  feet  thick.  I  can't  see  the  use 
of  it." 

This  was  a  point  upon  which  Julian  was  enlightened 
before  he  was  many  hours  older.  He  learned  that  the 
walls  were  not  as  solid  as  they  appeared;  that  there 
were  long  corridors  and  winding  passage-ways  running 
through  them,  communicating  with  every  room  in  the 
house,  and  all  leading  to  a  gloomy  cavern  in  the  hill  be- 
hind the  building,  with  which  he  was  destined  soon  to 
become  well  acquainted. 

Julian  held  the  shutters  open  and  took  a  survey  of 


154  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

the  scene  before  him.  He  saw  the  high  stone  wall 
which  surrounded  the  house  on  all  sides,  the  ponderous 
gate  which  had  opened  a  short  time  before  to  admit  him 
and  the  trappers,  the  well-beaten  bridle-path  leading 
across  the  valley  toward  the  mountains,  and  noted  even 
the  smallest  object  within  the  range  of  his  vision,  but 
nothing  looked  familiar. 

The  home  of  his  boyhood  was  not  so  gloomy  and  des- 
olate a  place  as  this  in  which  he  now  found  himself. 
There  was  no  high  wall  to  shut  out  all  view  of  the  outer 
world,  but  there  were  flowers  blooming  before  the  door, 
a  pleasant  grove  close  by,  and  people  constantly  coming 
and  going.  And  there  was  a  jolly  old  gentleman,  from 
whose  side  he  was  scarcely  ever  separated,  who  used  to 
take  him  on  his  knee  and  talk  to  him  for  hours;  and 
now  and  then  a  laughing,  blue-eyed  boy  would  make  his 
appearance  after  a  long  absence,  spend  a  few  days  in 
romping  with  him  and  then  go  off  again.  Where  was 
that  father  and  brother  now?  If  they  were  alive  and 
well,  as  Silas  had  so  often  assured  him,  why  were  they 
not  living  there  in  the  rancho,  if  that  was  their  home? 
Why  should  they  remain  away  and  allow  a  stranger  to 
take  the  management  of  their  affairs? 

"If  I  have  a  home  and  friends  I  must  look  further 
to  find  them,  that  is  plain  enough  to  be  seen,"  solilo- 
quized Julian,  closing  the  shutter  and  creeping  back 
into  the  room.  "  But  before  I  go  I  should  like  to  know 
what  object  this  man  has  in  view  in  bringing  me  here 
and  claiming  me  for  his  nephew.  When  I  meet  him  in 
the  morning  I  will  call  him  Uncle  Eeginald,  and  act  as 
though  I  believed What  are  you  doing  here?" 

When  Julian  stepped  down  from  the  window-seat  into 
the  room  he  had  just  left,  he  found  that  it  had  an  occu- 
pant who  had  no  business  there.  It  was  not  a  spirit, 
either,  for  spirits  do  not  need  lanterns  to  guide  their 
footsteps,  and  revolvers  to  defend  themselves,  and  this 
intruder  had  both.  One  was  held  in  his  left  hand  by 
his  side,  and  with  the  muzzle  of  the  other  he  Avas  cover- 
ing Julian's  head.  It  was  the  emigrant,  clean  shaven 
and  close  cropped,  as  he  was  when  the  boy  first  saw  him 
with  the  wagon  train. 


THE  EMIGRANT  AGAIN.  155 

"What  do  you  want  here,  Dick  Mortimer?"  cried 
Julian,  recoiling  before  the  muzzle  of  the  revolver. 
"Clear  out  I" 

"  So  you  know  me,  do  you?"  inquired  the  man,  with 
some  surprise.  "  That  villain,  Sanders,  has  been  post- 
ing you.  He  has  deserted  me  and  gone  over  to  my 
cousin;  but,  fortunately,  I  shall  have  no  further  occa- 
sion for  his  services.  Put  on  your  jacket  and  come  with 
me;  and  mind  you,  no  noise!" 

"By  what  authority  do  you  order  me  out  of  my  own 
house?"  demanded  Julian,  scarcely  knowing  what  he 
said.  ' '  I  am  master  here,  if  you  please." 

"Ah!  Eeginald  has  been  posting  you,  too,  has  he?" 
exclaimed  the  emigrant  angrily.  "You  have  learned 
more  than  I  ever  intended  you  should  know;  but  it 
can't  be  helped  now.  This  is  my  authority,"  he  added, 
raising  his  revolver  to  a  level  with  the  boy's  head  and 
placing  his  finger  on  the  trigger;  "and  you  will  do  well 
to  respect  it.  What  else  did  Keginald  say  to  you?  Did 
he  tell  you  who  you  are,  or  give  you  any  information 
concerning  your  father?" 

"  No;  but  I  know  that  he  is  alive  and  well." 

"  Then  Silas  has  been  posting  you.  Do  you  know 
where  he  is?" 

"  That's  my  business.  Have  you  a  man  with  you 
waiting  to  earn  that  $1,000,  or  do  you  intend  to  do  the 
work  yourself?" 

"You  know  that  too,  do  you?  No;  you  need  stand 
in  no  fear  of  bodily  harm  as  long  as  you  obey  my  com- 
mands. I  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  I  can  use 
you  to  as  good  purpose  as  Reginald  can.  No  more 
words  now.  Put  on  that  coat  and  come  with  me." 

Julian  mechanically  obeyed.  His  bodily  powers  wei  e 
so  nearly  exhausted,  and  he  was  thrown  into  such  a 
state  of  bewilderment  and  alarm  by  his  new  adventure, 
that  he  suddenly  seemed  to  become  insensible  to  every 
emotion.  He  could  walk  and  talk,  but  he  received  no 
more  impression  from  the  objects  around  him  than  if  lie 
had  be?  t  in  a  dream.  He  no  longer  shrunk  away  from 
the  rr»  ilver  which  was  kept  pointed  straight  at  his 


156  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

head,  nor  was  he  surprised  when  the  emigrant  raised  the 
hangings  at  the  foot  of  the  bed  and  disclosed  to  view  an 
opening  in  the  wall — that  solid  stone  wall  which  Julian 
had  so  carefully  examined  but  a  few  minutes  before. 
He  clambered  through  without  waiting  for  the  order, 
and  followed  his  captor  along  a  narrow  passage-way  and 
down  a  flight  of  steps  into  a  commodious  underground 
apartment,  which,  judging  by  its  general  appearance, 
was  used  as  a  cellar  and  store-house.  Here  the  emi- 
grant spoke  again,  and  the  sound  of  his  voice  aroused 
Julian  to  a  sense  of  his  situation. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  he,  ' '  I  have  changed  my  plans 
concerning  you.  Silas  Eoper  is  the  man  I  want  now, 
and  in  order  to  get  hold  of  him  I  must  hold  fast  to  you. 
I  have  a  comfortable  little  shooting-box  up  in  the  mount- 
ains, and  there  you  can  stay  and  enjoy Great 

heavens!" 

The  emigrant  ceased  speaking  and  started  back  as  if 
he  had  been  shot.  Julian  looked  up  into  his  face  and 
saw  that  it  was  white  with  terror,  and  noticed,  too,  that 
he  was  trembling  violently  in  every  limb.  His  eyes 
were  staring  fixedly  toward  the  farther  end  of  the  cellar, 
and  following  the  direction  of  his  gaze  Julian  discovered 
something  that  made  his  heart  beat  a  little  faster  than 
usual. 

It  was  not  a  frightful  object  his  gaze  rested  upon — 
nothing  but  the  figure  of  a  feeble  and  decrepit  old  man, 
who  was  walking  across  the  opposite  end  of  the  cellar. 
He  moved  along  with  tottering  step  and  form  half- 
bent,  his  thin  silvery  hair  streaming  down  over  his 
shoulders,  and  one  withered  hand  grasping  a  staff  upon 
which  he  leaned  heavily.  He  seemed  ignorant  of  the 
presence  of  the  emigrant  and  his  prisoner,  and  walked 
on  without  looking  either  to  the  right  or  left.  Sud- 
denly, however,  he  turned  and  approached  the  foot  of 
the  stairs.  Julian  could  not  see  his  eyes,  which  were 
fastened  upon  the  ground,  but  he  obtained  a  fair  view 
of  his  face.  He  could  discover  nothing  in  it  calculated 
to  frighten  any  one,  for  its  expression  was  mild  and 
benevolent,  but  the  emigrant  seemed  unable  to  endure 


THE  EMIGRA NT  AGAIN.  157 

the  sight  of  it.  He  retreated  as  the  old  man  advanced, 
growing  more  and  more  terrified  every  moment,  and 
finally  with  a  shriek  of  dismay  dashed  the  lantern  upon 
the  floor,  extinguishing  the  light  and  leaving  the  cellar 
shrouded  in  darkness.  Julian  turned  and  made  a  feeble 
attempt  to  ascend  the  stairs,  but  exhausted  nature  gave 
away  at  last.  He  felt  himself  falling — falling — and  then 
all  was  blank  to  him. 


CHAPTEE  XIX. 

UNCLE   KEGINALD   EXPLAINS. 

HEN  Julian's  consciousness  returned  it  was 
broad  daylight.  The  instant  his  eyes  were 
open  the  thrilling  events  of  the  night  came 
back  to  him,  and  he  started  up  in  alarm,  ex- 
pecting to  find  himself  still  in  the  power  of  the  dreaded 
emigrant.  But,  although  he  saw  enough  to  astonish 
him  beyond  measure,  there  was  nothing  to  terrify  him. 
His  persevering  and  relentless  enemy  was  nowhere  to  be 
seen.  He  was  snugly  tucked  up  in  bed  in  the  same 
room  to  which  he  had  been  conducted  by  Eeginald 
Mortimer,  his  clothes  were  lying  in  order  on  a  chair 
close  at  hand,  the  curtains  were  thrown  back,  the 
windows  and  shutters  all  open,  and  heaven's  bright  sun- 
light was  streaming  in.  And  what  was  very  surprising, 
there  was  the  door  locked  and  bolted  and  secured  by  the 
chair,  just  as  he  had  left  it. 

"Can  it  be  possible  that  those  things  never  happened, 
and  that  Dick  Mortimer,  with  his  lantern  and  revolver, 
the  long,  dark  passage-way,  and  the  feeble  old  man  who 
frightened  him  so  terribly,  were  objects  that  I  saw  only 
in  my  dreams?"  exclaimed  Julian. 

As  this  thought  passed  through  his  mind  he  sprung 
from  the  couch,  and  running  to  the  opposite  side  of  the 
room  pulled  up  the  hangings,  fully  expecting  to  find 
there  the  opening  through  which  his  captor  had  con- 
ducted him  into  the  passage-way.  But  the  wall  was  as 
solid  as  ever — not  one  of  the  huge  blocks  of  stone  was 
out  of  place. 

"  If  I  dreamed  that  I  did  not  dream  that  I  left  these 
curtains  all  down  and  the  windows  closed,  did  I?"  Julian 
asked  himself  in  deep  perplexity.  "  Somebody  baa  cer- 
tainly been  in  here  while  I  was  asleep,  and  he  didn't  come 


UNCLE  REGINALD  EXPLAINS.  159 

in  through  the  door  either.  I've  spent  my  last  night  in 
this  house.  I  didn't  hear  any  of  those  frightful  sounds 
Sanders  heard  the  night  he  slept  here,  but  I've  seen 
enough.  If  I  ever  get  outside  these  walls  I'll  not  come 
back.  What's  this?" 

After  hastily  throwing  on  his  clothes  Julian  stepped 
to  the  table  to  help  himself  to  a  glass  of  water  from  the 
pitcher  that  some  thoughtful  hand  had  placed  there, 
when  his  eyes  fell  upon  a  paper,  folded  in  the  form  of  a 
letter,  and  addressed  to  himself.  With  eager  haste  he 
opened  it,  and  after  some  trouble,  for  the  spelling  was 
defective  and  the  writing  almost  illegible,  he  deciphered 
the  following: 

"Have  no  fear.  Watchful  friends  are  near  you,  and 
no  harm  shall  come  to  you.  Reginald  Mortimer  is  your 
uncle.  Treat  him  as  such." 

Julian  read  these  mysterious  words  over  and  over  again, 
and  finally  carried  the  paper  to  the  window  and  exam- 
ined it  on  all  sides,  in  the  hope  of  finding  something 
more — something  to  tell  him  who  these  watchful  friends 
were,  and  where  the  missive  came  from.  Being  disap- 
pointed in  these  hopes  he  put  the  letter  carefully  away 
in  his  pocket  and  resumed  his  toilet.  He  was  a  long 
time  about  it,  for  he  frequently  stopped  and  stood  at  the 
window  gazing  out  at  the  mountains  on  the  other  side  of 
the  valley,  or  walked  up  and  down  the  room  with  his 
eyes  fastened  on  the  carpet.  His  mind  was  busy  all  the 
while,  and  by  the  time  he  was  ready  to  leave  the  room 
he  had  thought  over  his  situation  and  determined  upon 
a  plan  of  action.  Just  then  the  little  clock  on  the 
mantel  struck  the  hour  of  10. 

"  I  am  getting  fashionable,"  said  Julian,  who,  remem- 
bering how  carefully  Richard  Mortimer  was  always 
dressed,  and  believing  that  Uncle  Reginald,  as  he  had 
determined  to  call  him,  might  be  equally  particular, 
stopped  to  take  another  look  at  himself  in  the  mirror 
before  quitting  the  room. 

It  was  a  very  handsome  face  and  figure  that  the  polished 
surface  of  the  glass  reflected.  A  finely  embroidered  shirt 
with  wide  collar  and  neck-tie,  a  closely  fitting  jacket  of 


1 60  JULIAN  MOR  TIMER. 

dark-blue  cloth,  black  velvet  trousers,  brown  cloth  leg- 
gings with  green  fringe,  light  shoes,  and  a  long  crimson 
<ash  worn  about  the  waist,  completed  an  attire  that  set 
off  his  slender,  well-knit  frame  to  the  very  best  advan- 
tage. One  could  scarcely  recognize  in  him  the  half- 
starved  ragamuffin  whose  daily  duty  it  had  been  to  keep 
Mrs.  Bowles  supplied  with  back-logs  and  fore-sticks. 

Having  satisfied  himself  that  he  was  presentable, 
Julian  undid  the  numerous  fastenings  of  the  door, 
smiling  the  while  to  think  how  inefficient  they  had 
proved  to  keep  out  the  intruders  of  whom  he  stood  so 
much  in  fear,  and  was  rl-.out  to  pass  out  into  the  hall 
when  the  sound  of  voices  reached  his  ears.  He  paused 
and  listened,  his  attention  being  attracted  by  the  mention 
of  the  name  of  one  in  whom  he  was  now  more  than  ever 
interested. 

"  Wai,  I  don't  reckon  we  could  help  it,  could  we?" 
growled  a  voice  which  the  boy  knew  belonged  to  the 
trapper  Sanders.  "  Me  an' my  pardner  ain't  the  men  to 
let  $5,000  slip  through  our  fingers  without  doin'  our 
level  best  to  hang  onto  it,  be  sure?" 

"A  couple  of  blockheads,  I  say!"  replied  the  voice  of 
Reginald  Mortimer,  in  angry,  excited  tones.  "Two 
desperadoes  like  you  and  Tom  to  allow  t*  single  man  like 
Silas  Roper  to  get  the  better  of  you.  Go  and  hide  your- 
self. How  did  it  happen?" 

"  Why  we  was  a  bringin'  him  down  here  this  mornin' 
on  hossback,  me  and  Tom  was,"  replied  Sanders,  "an* 
the  first  thing  we  knowed  he  slipped  his  hands  out  o'  his 
bonds,  which  we  thought  we  had  made  hard  an' fast,  an' 
afore  we  could  say  'Geu'ral  Jackson'  with  our  mouths 
open,  he  jerked  Tom's  gun  out  o'  his  hands,  knocked 
him  from  his  saddle  as  clean  as  a  whistle,  an'  sent  the 
ball  into  me." 

"  Hurrah  for  Silas?"  thought  Julian,  gleefully.  "  He 
has  escaped.  Now,  if  there  is  any  way  in  which  he  can 
assist  me  he  will  not  fail  to  do  it." 

"  He  was  out  o'  sight  an'  hearin'  afore  we  could  raise 
a  finger  to  stop  him,"  continued  Sanders.  "I  guess  my 
broken  arm  an'  Tom's  bloody  head  is  proof  enough  of 
what  I  say,  hain't  it?  We  couldn't  help  it." 


UNCLE  REGINALD  EXPLAINS.  101 

ee  Perhaps  you  did  the  best  you  could,"  replied  Reginald 
Mortimer  in  a  milder  tone.  "  That  Silas  Roper  is  a 
match  for  any  two  men  in  the  mountains.  Come  into 
this  room  and  let  Pedro  dress  your  wounds." 

"  Nary  time,"  said  Sanders  emphatically.  "  I've  had 
jest  the  wust  luck  in  the  world  ever  since  I  had  any- 
thing to  do  with  you  an'  your  house,  anj  now  I'm  goin' 
to  cut  you.  I  came  here  to  tell  you  that,  an'  I  ain't 
never  comin'  nigh  you  again.  Let  us  out  o'  here." 

"  You  will  come  whenever  I  choose  to  send  for  you," 
said  Mr.  Mortimer  fiercely. 

"( Oh,  if  it  comes  to  that  cap'n,  in  course  we  will,"  re- 
plied Sanders,  dropping  his  angry,  confident  tone  very 
suddenly.  "  We're  bound  to  obey  orders,  but  don't  ask 
nary  one  of  us  to  come  here  agin.  We'd  a  heap  sooner 
you'd  send  us  out  to  steal  hosses  and  rob  miners." 

"Silence!"  said  Mr.  Mortimer  in  a  hoarse  whisper. 
e '  Do  you  not  know  that  the  very  walls  in  this  house  have 
ears?  You  mutt  capture  Silas  Roper;  and  I  will  give 
you  the  money  I  promised  you  whenever  you  deliver  him 
into  rny  hands,  lie  is  about  here,  and  he  will  remain  in 
the  vicinity  as  long  as  I  hold  fast  to  this  stool-pigeon." 
-  Uncle  Reginald  and  the  trappers  passed  through  the 
door  into  the  yard,  and  Julian  strolled  along  the  hall, 
and  not  knowing  where  else  to  go,  entered  the  reception- 
room.  While  he  was  walking  about  with  his  hands  in 
his  pocket,  he  was  thinking  over  some  portions  of  the 
conversation  to  which  he  had  just  listened. 

"Captain?"  he  repeated.  "What  is  Uncle  Reginald 
captain  of  ?  Steal  horses  and  rob  miners  !  Silas  told 
me  that  the  mountains  were  full  of  men  engaged  in 
that  kind  of  business,  and  I  wonder  if  this  new  relative 
of  mine  is  in  any  way  connected  with  them!  lie  must 
be;  and  he  must  be  their  leader,  too,  for  Sanders 
acknowledged  that  he  was  bound  to  obey  his  orders. 
Good  gracious!  What  sort  of  a  place  have  I  got  into, 
anyhow?" 

While  Julian,  appalled  by  this  new  discovery  he  had 
made,  was  pacing  restlessly  up  and  down  the  floor,  Un- 
cle Reginald  hurried  in.  Tne  scowl  on  his  forehead 


162  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

indicated  that  he  was  in  a  bad  humor  about  something, 
but  it  cleared  away  instantly  when  he  discovered  Julian, 
and  advancing  with  outstretched  hand  he  greeted  him 
in  the  most  cordial  mai  ner. 

"  I  hope  you  rested  well  after  the  fatigues  and  excite- 
ments of  yesterday,"  said  he  with  a  friendly  smile. 
"  You  look  as  if  you  had.  Breakfast  is  waiting,  and 
while  we  are  discussing  it  we  will  have  a  social  chat." 

The  boy,  making  some  satisfactory  reply,  returned 
his  uncle's  smile  and  the  hearty  pressure  of  his  hand, 
and  accompanied  him  toward  the  breakfast-room,  which 
was  located  at  the  farther  end  of  the  hall.  He  glanced 
over  the  well-filled  table  as  he  took  the  chair  pointed 
out  to  him,  and  told  himself  that  if  this  breakfast  was 
a  fair  sample  of  Uncle  Reginald's  style  of  living  he 
would  never  go  hungry  while  he  remained  under  his 
roof.  Corn  bread,  salt  meat  and  buttermilk  did  not 
constitute  the  substantial  part  of  the  repast  as  they  in- 
variably did  in  the  cabin  of  Jack  Bowles.  There  were 
juicy  venison  steaks,  hot  muffins,  wheat  bread,  eggs, 
boiled  and  fried,  toast  and  potatoes  in  abundance,  and 
also  coffee  and  chocolate,  which  Pedro,  who  waited 
upon  the  table,  drew  from  a  silver  urn  v»hich  stood  on 
the  sideboard.  More  than  that,  thx  cloth  WP.S  spotless, 
the  dishes  clean  and  white,  mid  tl.j  table  was  altogether 
so  nicely  arranged,  and  looked  so  inviting,  that  Julian 
grew  hungry  the  moment  his  eyes  resti-H  upon  it. 

When  Pedro  had  supplied  the  wants  of  his  master 
and  his  guests,  he  retired,  and  the  two  were  left  alone. 

"  Well,  Julian,"  said  Uncle  Reginald  in  a  cheery 
voice,  "do  you  feel  inclined  for  a  gallop  on  a  swift 
horse  this  morning?  I  have  some  business  that  will 
occupy  my  attention  until  dinner,  and  if  you  in  the 
meantime  wish  to  amuse  yourself  in  that  way,  there  is  a 
very  fine  filly  in  the  stable  which  I  purchased  expressly 
for  you,  and  which  I  hope  will  supply  the  place  of  the 
horse  you  lost  last  night." 

"  You  must  have  been  expecting  me,"  said  the  boy. 

"  Certainly.  I  have  been  looking  for  you  every  day 
for  the  last  two  months;  and  as  this  introduces  the 


UNCLE  REGINALD  EXPLAINS.  1G3 

subject  which  I  know  you  are  impatient  to  talk  about,  I 
will  now  make  the  explanation  I  promised  you.  In  the 
first  place,  do  you  know  that  last  night  you  slept  in  your 
old  home  for  the  first  time  in  eight  years?  You  were 
born  in  this  house,  and  every  thing  in  and  about  it- 
money,  horses,  cattle  and  gold  diggings — will  come  into 
your  undisputed  possession  the  moment  you  are  twenty- 
one  years  old.  It  is  a  fact.  You  are  by  no  means  the 
pauper  you  have  always  supposed  yourself  to  be/' 

Julian  dropped  his  knife  and  fork,  and  settling  back 
in  his  chair  looked  the  astonishment  he  could  not  ex- 
press in  words.  lie  gazed  earnestly  at  his  uncle,  and 
then  ran  his  eyes  around  the  room  as  if  he  were  trying 
to  make  an  estimate  of  the  value  of  his  possessions  from 
the  few  articles  he  saw  about  him. 

"It  is  the  truth,  every  word  of  it,"  repeated  Reginald 
Mortimer.  "  It  is  all  yours,  and  it  is  a  property  worth 
having,  I  assure  you.  Your  father,  who  was  my  brother, 
is  dead,  and  so  is  your  brother  Frederick.  I  am  your 
guardian,  and  stand  ready  to  surrender  your  patrimony 
to  you  whenever  you  are  competent  to  take  charge  of  it. 
I  assumed  control  of  your  father's  affairs  immediately 
after  his  death.  At  that  time  you  were  eight  years  old 
and  your  brother  nine.  Fred  died,  and  shortly  after- 
ward you  were  stolen  away  by  some  one,  who,  as  I  this 
morning  learned  from  Sanders,  who  told  me  all  about 
it,  took  you  off  to  Missouri  and  left  you  there  with  one 
Jack  Bowles.  For  eight  years  I  made  every  effort  to 
find  you,  and  I  have  at  last  succeeded.  I  do  not  intend 
that  you  shall  be  separated  from  me  any  more.'" 

"Well,"  said  Julian,  when  his  uncle  paused. 

"  Well,  that's  all." 

"All!"  echoed  the  boy.  "Am  I  to  learn  no  more  of 
my  history  than  this  brief  outline?  Do  you  not  know 
who  it  was  who  stole  me  away?" 

"  I  haven't  the  slightest  idea." 

"Or  what  he  stole  me  away  for?" 

"Why,  of  course  your  property  had  something  to  do 
with  it,  but  just  what  I  can't  tell." 

Julian,  who  had  settled  into  an  easy  position  in  his 


104  y  ULIAN  MOR  TIMER. 

arm-chair  with  the  expectation  of  hearing  something 
exciting  about  himself,  straightened  up,  and  with  an 
expression  of  great  disappointment  on  his  face,  resumed 
his  toast  and  coffee.  He  wanted  to  hear  more,  and  he 
was  satisfied  from  his  uncle's  manner  that  he  could  tell 
him  more  if  he  felt  so  inclined ;  but  it  was  plain  that  he 
did  not,  for  his  next  words  related  to  another  subject. 

"  I  hope  you  are  now  convinced  that  the  fears  to 
which  you  last  night  gave  way  were  entirely  groundless/' 
said  Mr.  Mortimer.  "I  shall  endeavor  by  every  means 
in  my  power  to  make  your  life  here  a  pleasant  one.  I 
have  been  very  lonely  and  I  Avant  you  to  cheer  me.  I 
want  you  to  feel  that  you  are  one  of  the  family,  that 
you  have  a  right  to  be  here,  and  that  you  are  at  liberty 
to  go  and  come  Avhenever  it  suits  your  fancy.  You 
shall  have  the  best  horse  in  the  stable,  a  pack  of  hounds, 
a  servant  to  wait  on  you,  and  live  like  a  gentleman. 
There  is  a  fort  about  two  miles  distant.  Some  of  the 
officers  have  their  families  with  them,  and  among  them 
are  several  boys  about  your  own  age.  Whenever  you 
Avant  company,  bring  them  up  here.  They  Avill  find 
enough  to  interest  them." 

"Perhaps  they  would  also  find  some  things  they 
Avould  not  care  to  see,"  said  Julian,  thinking  of  his 
recent  adventure  with  the  emigrant. 

"  What  do  you  mean?" 

"  Why,  some  of  those  strange  people  who  go  about  of 
nights  making  such  unearthly  noises." 

"That  sounds  just  like  Sanders,"  exclaimed  Uncle 
Reginald  impatiently.  "  Julian.  I  hope  you  are  a  boy 
of  too  much  good  sense  to  pay  the  least  attention  to  any 
thing  that  low,  ignorant  fellow  may  say  to  you.  There 
isn't  a  word  of  truth  in  it." 

"Nor  about  the  secret  passage-ways  that  run  all 
through  the  house?" 

'  Not  a  particle.     It  is  all  moonshine." 

:  Or  about  the  old  man  who  lives  in  the  cellar?" 

:  All  the  veriest  nonsense  in  the  Avorld." 

'  Or  about  your  missing  things?" 

'  Why,  as  to  that,  I  have  missed  some  things,  that's  a 


UNCLE  REGINALD  EXPLAINS.  \  05 

fact,  but  I  know  where  they  went.  Pedro  took  them, 
lie  is  a  great  rascal." 

"  Why  do  you  not  discharge  him  if  he  is  a  thief?" 

' '  Because  servants  are  not  so  easily  procured  in  this 
wilderness.  More  than  that,  he  is  a  valuable  fellow  in 
spite  of  his  faults — understands  all  my  ways,  and  knows 
just  how  I  want  every  thing  done.  You  will  stay  with 
me  ?  " 

''Certainly,  sir.  I  have  not  seen  so  much  of  the  com- 
forts of  a  home  that  I  can  afford  to  throw  them  away  as 
soon  as  they  are  oifered  to  me.  Beside,  I  want  to  see 
the  bottom  of  this  mystery." 

"  What  mystery?  Well,  perhaps  it  does  seem  a  little 
strange  that  I,  a  man  whom  you  never  remember  to 
have  seen  before,  should  claim  you  as  a  nephew,  and 
tell  you  that  I  hold  in  my  hands  a  valuable  property 
which  is  all  your  own,  but  it  is  nevertheless  true." 

"And  there  are  other  things  that  seem  strange  to 
me,"  continued  Julian.  "  One  of  them  is  that  you  can 
live  here  unmolested,  as  you  evidently  do,  while  peacea- 
ble emigrants  are  butchered  at  your  very  doors." 

"That  is  also  easily  explained.  In  the  first  place, 
that  wagon  train  was  quite  a  lengthy  step  from  my  door 
when  it  was  attacked — about  forty  miles.  In  the  next, 
there  is  a  fort  and  a  regiment  of  soldiers  almost  within 
call  of  me.  I  have  twenty-five  herdsmen  in  the  valley, 
and  at  the  very  first  sign  of  a  war-party  they  would  come 
flocking  into  the  house,  which  could  withstand  the  as- 
sault of  all  the  Indians  on  the  plains.  Now,  if  you  have 
finished  your  breakfast,  and  are  ready  for  your  ride,  I 
will  show  you  your  horse." 

If  Julian  had  given  utterance  to  the  thoughts  that 
were  passing  through  his  mind,  he  would  have  told  his 
uncle  that  he  was  not  quite  ready  for  his  ride.  There 
were  other  questions  that  he  would  like  to  have  had  an- 
swered. He  wanted  to  know  what  sort  of  an  organiza- 
tion it  Avas  of  which  his  uncle  was  captain;  why  he  was 
so  much  interested  in  Silas  lioper  that  he  was  willing  to 
give  £5,000  for  his  apprehension;  if  he  knew  that  his 
cousin,  liichard  Mortimer,  instead  of  being  at  Fort 


166  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

Stoughton  hunting  buffaloes,  was  prowling  about  some- 
where in  the  immediate  neighborhood,  and  that  he  had 
twice  visited  the  rancho  the  night  before.  He  wanted 
to  know  which  of  the  two  men  who  claimed  to  be  his 
guardian  was  so  in  reality;  how  Uncle  Reginald  had 
found  out  that  he  was  hidden  in  the  wilds  of  Missouri; 
why,  since  he  was  so  very  anxious  to  find  him,  he  had 
sent  the  trapper  after  him  instead  of  going  himself;  and 
why  Sanders  had  deserted  him  so  suddenly  when  Silas 
Eoper  made  his  appearance  in  the  streets  of  St.  Joseph. 
He  wanted  to  know  who  Silas  Roper  was;  how  he  had 
learned  so  much  about  himself;  and  what  Uncle  Regi- 
nald meant  when  he  said  that  the  guide  would  not  leave 
the  vicinity  of  the  rancho  as  long  as  the  "  stool  -pigeon" 
was  there.  These  and  other  questions  had  Julian  in- 
tended to  propound  to  his  uncle;  but  the  abruptness 
with  which  all  the  topics  upon  which  he  most  wished  to 
converse  were  dismissed,  satisfied  him  that  it  would  be 
a  useless  waste  of  time,  and  that  his  relative  did  not 
intend  to  enlighten  him  any  further  than  he  saw  fit. 
Julian  would  have  been  glad  of  an  opportunity  to  talk 
to  one  of  those  "watchful  friends"  spoken  of  in  the 
note.  He  had  a  great  deal  to  say  to  him. 

"Romez,  bring  out  Snowdrop/' 

It  was  his  uncle  who  spoke,  and  the  sound  of  hi? 
voice  aroused  Julian  from  his  reverie.  They  had  now 
reached  the  stables — which  were  built  under  the  same 
roof  with  the  house  and  surrounded  by  the  same  wall — 
and  were  standing  in  front  of  the  door. 

The  Mexican  hostler  to  whom  the  order  was  addressed 
disappeared  in  the  stable,  and  in  a  few  minutes  came 
out  again,  leading  a  beautiful  snow-white  mare,  saddled 
and  bridled. 

Julian  looked  at  her  with  delight,  and  declared  that 
he  had  never  seen  a  finer  animal.  She  was  very  showy, 
and.  pranced  about  as  if  impatient  to  exhibit  her  mettle. 

"  I  did  not  care  to  ride  at  first,  but  I  do  now,"  said 
Julian.  "  I  will  be  ready  as  soon  as  I  get  my  rifle  and 
revolver.  But  I  must  have  some  ammunition." 

"Pedro  will  supply  you,"  replied  Uncle  Reginald. 
"  Go  to  him  for  everything  you  want." 


UNCLE  REGINALD  EXPLAINS.  1Q7 

It  was  but  the  work  of  a  few  minutes  to  run  to  his 
room,  throw  his  rifle  and  accouterments  over  his  shoul- 
der, buckle  his  revolver  about  his  waist  and  return  to 
Pedro  for  the  powder  and  lead.  He  was  out  again 
almost  as  soon  as  he  went  in,  and  vaulting  into  the  sad- 
dle he  bade  his  uncle  good-by  and  rode  at  a  full  gallop 
out  of  the  gate. 


CHAPTER   XX. 

JULIAN    GETS   INTO   BUSINESS. 

F  THERE  is  anything  better  calculated  than 
another  to  put  one  at  peace  with  himself  and 
all  the  world,  it  is  a  brisk  gallop  on  a  good 
horse  of  a  fine  summer's  morning.  It  is  a 
specific  for  melancholy.  When  Julian  was  safe  outside 
the  gloomy  walls  of  the  rancho,  and  felt  himself  being 
borne  through  the  air  with  the  speed  of  a  bird  on  the 
wing,  his  spirits  rose  wonderfully,  and  in  the  exuberance 
of  his  glee  he  swung  his  sombrero  about  his  head,  and 
gave  utterance  to  a  yell  almost  as  loud  and  unearthly  as 
any  he  had  heard  uttered  by  the  savages  the  night 
before.  The  spirited  mare  responded  to  the  yell  with  a 
fresh  burst  of  speed,  and  her  rider,  giving  her  a  free 
rein,  was  carried  at  a  rapid  rate  through  the  valley  in 
which  his  uncle's  rancho  was  located,  through  the  wil- 
lows that  skirted  the  base  of  the  mountain,  and  finally 
found  himself  in  a  rocky  defile  which  wound  about 
among  the  cliffs.  Here  the  mare  voluntarily  slackened 
her  pace  to  a  walk,  and  Julian  wiped  his  flushed  face 
with  his  handkerchief  and  looked  about  him.  He  could 
see  nothing  but  rocks.  They  hemmed  him  in  on  all 
sides,  and  towered  above  his  head  until  their  tops 
seemed  to  pierce  the  clouds. 

"  I  don't  know  why  I  ever  allowed  myself  to  be  brought 
in  here,"  thought  the  boy,  "  or  why  the  horse  should 
leave  a  level  path  to  follow  so  miserable  a  road  as  this. 
Perhaps  Uncle  Reginald  purchased  her  of  some  miner  or 
settler  up  here  in  -the  mountains,  and  she  thinks  she  is 
on  her  way  home.  At  any  rate  she  seems  to  know 
where  she  is  going,  and  so  long  as  she  doesn't  lose  me  I 
don't  care  where  she  carries  me.  I  hope  I  shall  find 
some  one  to  talk  to.  Since  uncle  will  not  tell  me  any- 


JULIAN  GETS  INTO  BUSINESS.  109 

thing  about  myself,  I  must  learn  what  I  want  to  know 
from  other  sources.  Halloo!" 

This  exclamation  was  called  forth  by  an  unexpected 
sight  that  greeted  his  eyes.  As  he  came  suddenly  around 
an  abrupt  bend  in  the  path,  he  found  before  him  a  long, 
low,  narrow  cabin,  built  snugly  under  a  beetling  cliff 
which  hung  threateningly  over  the  gorge.  Two  well- 
beaten  paths  appeared  at  this  point;  one  leading  to  the 
doors  of  the  building,  and  the  other  running  on  down 
the  gorge.  The  mare,  which  seemed  perfectly  familiar 
with  the  locality,  quickened  her  pace  at  once,  and  before 
Julian  could  gather  up  the  reins  to  check  her,  she  had 
turned  into  the  first  mentioned  path,  and  galloping  up 
to  one  of  the  doors  stopped  as  if  waiting  for  her  rider  to 
dismount.  After  looking  all  about  him,  without  dis- 
covering any  one,  Julian  began  to  take  a  survey  of  the 
premises. 

There  were  two  doors  in  the  house,  both  opening  out 
on  the  path.  A  short  examination  of  the  ground  in 
front  of  the  one  at  which  his  horse  had  stopped,  showed 
him  that  it  led  into  a  stable;  while  the  other,  no  doubt, 
opened  into  the  living-room,  for  there  was  a  rough 
bench  beside  it  for  the  accommodation  of  loungers. 
While  Julian  was  wondering  by  whom  and  for  what 
purpose  the  house  had  been  erected  in  that  remote  and 
lonely  spot,  his  attention  was  attracted  by  the  move- 
ments of  his  horse,  which,  after  pricking  up  her  ears  and 
looking  intently  at  the  door  in  front  of  her,  as  if  expect- 
ing the  arrival  of  some  one,  began  pawing  the  ground 
impatiently. 

"She  thinks  there  ought  to  be  somebody  here," 
thought  Julian.  "And  there  certainly  is  something  in 
the  stable/'  he  added,  after  listening  a  moment,  "for  I 
can  hear  the  stamping  of  horses.  Halloo!  the  house!" 

Julian  waited  for  a  reply,  and  listened  for  some  move- 
ment in  the  cabin  which  would  tell  him  that  his  call  had 
been  heard;  but  the  only  response  he  received  was  the 
echo  of  his  own  voice  thrown  back  from  the  cliffs.  This 
satisfied  him  that  the  owner  of  the  premises  was  absent; 
and  picking  up  his  reins,  he  was  on  the  point  of  turning 


170  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

back  toward  the  valley,  when,  by  the  merest  accident, 
he  discovered  something  that  he  might  have  seen  before 
if  he  had  made  good  use  of  his  eyes.  It  was  a  small 
window  close  under  the  eaves  of  the  house,  which  was 
filled  by  the  muzzle  of  a  revolver  and  a  pair  of  gleaming 
eyes  looking  straight  at  him. 

Too  astonished  to  speak,  the  boy  sat  in  his  saddle  won- 
dering what  was  going  to  happen  now,  and  presently 
saw  the  six-shooter  disappear  and  the  eyes  approach 
closer  to  the  opening.  A  moment  afterward  a  shaggy 
head,  crowned  by  a  broad-brimmed  hat,  was  thrust 
slowly  out,  and  a  masculine  face,  that  was  by  no  means 
handsome  or  prepossessing,  was  exposed  to  his  view. 

"  It's  you  after  all,  hain't  it?"  growled  a  deep  voice, 
in  no  very  amiable  tones. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Julian,  "  it  is  I.  But  I  heartily  wish 
it  was  somebody  else,"  he  added,  mentally. 

"  Why  in  tarnation  didn't  you  whistle?  I  didn't  know 
you  in  them  new  clothes,  and  I  might  have  put  a  ball 
into  you  just  as  easy  as  not.  I'll  be  out  in  a  jiffy." 

As  the  man  said  this  he  drew  in  his  head  and  closed 
the  window.  Julian  was  glad  indeed  when  his  villainous 
face  disappeared,  and  trembled  when  he  reflected  that 
perhaps  that  revolver  had  been  leveled  at  his  head,  and 
those  evil  eyes  fastened  upon  him  ever  since  he  arrived 
within  sight  of  the  cabin,  and  he  had  never  suspected  it. 
He  saw  at  once  that  he  had  placed  himself  in  a  danger- 
ous position.  One  of  two  things  was  certain.  The 
owner  of  the  rancho  was  either  hiding  from  pursuit,  or 
else  he  was  engaged  in  some  unlawful  business.  If  he 
were  an  honest  man  he  would  not  act  so  strangely. 

"But  how  does  it  happen  that  he  recognizes  me?" 
Julian  asked  himself.  "  Does  he  know  who  I  am,  or 
does  he  take  me  for  somebody  else?  If  he  knows  that  I 
am  Julian  Mortimer,  he  may  be  a  man  of  the  Sanders 
stamp  who  has  been  hired  to  put  me  out  of  Dick's  way. 
If  he  thinks  that  I  am  an  acquaintance  of  his,  or  an 
accomplice,  he  will  certainly  discover  his  mistake  as 
soon  as  he  has  a  fair  view  of  my  face,  and  then  what 
will  he  do  to  me  ?  I  think  I  had  better  not  wait  for  him," 


JULIAN  GETS  INTO  BUSINESS.  171 

As  quick  as  thought  Julian  wheeled  his  mare  and 
touched  her  with  his  spurs;  but  the  animal,  knowing 
probably  that  good  care  and  plenty  of  corn  awaited  her 
entry  into  the  stable  which  she  regarded  as  her  home, 
responded  very  reluctantly.  Before  she  had  made  many 
bounds  the  door  of  the  stable  was  jerked  open,  and  a 
voice  called  out  in  surprised  and  indignant  tones: 

"Halt!  halt!  I  say,  on  the  instant,  or  you're  a  dead 
man!" 

Julian  knew  that  the  speaker  was  in  earnest,  for  his 
command  Avas  followed  by  the  click  of  the  lock  of  his 
revolver;  but  he  would  have  kept  on  in  spite  of  his  fear 
of  the  bullets  had  not  his  horse,  which  doubtless  recog- 
nized the  voice,  came  to  a  sudden  stand-still.  Julian 
looked  back  and  saw  that  the  man's  pistol  was  pointed 
straight  at  his  breast. 

"If  you  ain't  a  little  ahead  of  all  the  fools  I  ever  saw 
in  all  my  born  days  my  name  ain't  Bob  Smirker,  and 
never  was,"  exclaimed  the  owner  of  the  rancho  fiercely. 
"  That's  the  second  time  I  have  come  within  an  inch  of 
shooting  you.  Come  back  here  now,  and  let's  have  no 
more  fooling." 

Julian,  not  daring  to  attempt  to  continue  his  retreat 
on  his  unwilling  steed,  was  compelled  to  obey.  Calling 
all  his  courage  to  his  aid,  he  turned  about  and  rode  back 
to  the  cabin.  Smirker  looked  sharply  at  him  as  he 
came  up,  but  Julian  met  his  gaze  without  flinching,  and 
even  succeeded  in  calling  a  smile  to  his  face.  Believing 
that  he  had  nothing  to  gain  by  deception,  he  began  to 
explain  who  he  was  and  how  he  came  to  be  there;  but 
the  man  interrupted  him,  and  Julian  was  afterward  glad 
that  he  had  done  so. 

"  I  hope  I  am  not  intruding,  sir,"  he  began.  "  I  was 
out  for  a  breath  of  fresh  air " 

"Oh,  hush  your  nonsense!"  cried  the  owner  of  the 
rancho  angrily.  "You're  always  'out  fora  breath  of 
fresh  air '  when  you  are  doing  something  you've  no  busi- 
ness to  do.  That  was  what  you  said  to  me  on  the  day 
you  found  my  secret  passage-way  which  leads  down  from 
the  top  of  the  cliff.  I  didn't  want  anybody  but  myself 


172  /  ULIA  N  MOR  TIMER. 

to  know  about  that  passage-way,  and  when  I  found 
that  you  had  discovered  it  I  was  mad  enough  to  shoot 
you.  You're  eternally  up  to  some  foolishness,  and  it's 
the  greatest  wonder  in  the  world  you  haven't  been  killed 
a  thousand  times.  Everybody  says  so.  Now,  Fred,  if 
you  should  come  here  every  hour  in  the  day  for  the  next 
ten  years,  don't  ever  ride  up  without  giving  the  signal, 
and  don't  try  to  run  away  when  I  open  the  door.  This 
ain't  boy's  play  we're  at,  as  you  would  soon  find  out  if 
them  soldiers  or  some  of  the  settlers  should  get  hold  of 
you.  You  hadn't  ought  to  done  it,  'cause  I  didn't  know 
you  in  that  Mexican  rig.  Come  in.  I've  got  something 
for  you." 

While  the  man  was  speaking  he  was  looking  squarely 
into  Julian's  face,  and  the  latter  was  waiting  in  an  agony 
of  suspense  to  see  what  he  would  do  when  he  discovered 
that  he  had  mistaken  the  identy  of  his  visitor.  But 
Smirker  did  not  seem  to  think  he  had  made  a  mistake. 
Having  delivered  his  lecture  and  thus  worked  off  a  little 
of  his  indignation,  he  returned  his  revolver  to  his  belt 
and  led  the  way  into  the  stable,  closely  followed  by  Ju- 
lian's horse,  which  moved  after  him  without  waiting  for 
the  word  from  her  rider.  Julian  drew  a  long  breath  of 
relief,  and  told  himself  that  the  danger  for  the  present 
was  past.  The  difficulty  now  was  to  personate  the  boy 
whom  Smirker  believed  him  to  be. 

While  his  companion  lingered  to  fasten  the  door,  Ju- 
lian dismounted  and  ran  his  eye  about  the  stable,  which 
was  lighted  by  a  lantern  suspended  from  one  of  the 
beams.  It  was  much  larger  than  it  appeared  on  the  out- 
side, showing  that  it  extended  under  the  cliff.  It  was 
provided  with  stalls  for  a  dozen  horses,  three  of  which 
had  occupants.  The  mare  being  left  to  herself,  walked 
into  one  of  the  stalls  and  immediately  began  munching 
some  corn  which  had  doubtless  been  placed  there  for 
her. 

"Now,  then,"  said  Smirker,  when  he  had  fastened 
the  door,  "where  is  it?  Hand  it  out  here." 

"  Where  is  what?"  asked  the  boy. 

"Why,  you  know.     Didn't  you  bring  it?" 


JULIAN  GETS  INTO  BUSINESS.  173 

"No,"  replied  Julian,  who  of  course  had  not  the 
slightest  idea  Avhat  the  man  meant. 

"Didn't  they  say  anything  about  it?"  asked  Smirker, 
who  appeared  to  be  very  much  disappointed  as  well  as 
angry. 

"Not  a  word." 

"Well,  now,  this  way  of  doing  business  don't  suit  me, 
and  yon  may  tell  'em  that  I  said  so.  I  run  just  as  much 
risk  here  as  them  that  steals  the  swag — every  bit;  'cause 
how  do  I  know  but  them  soldiers  will  be  down  on  me 
when  I  ain't  looking  for  them  ?  Looks  like  they  wanted 
to  swindle  me  out  of  my  share.  But,  after  all,  they 
ain't  ahead  of  me  much,  'cause  I — you  won't  blow  on 
me,  Fred?" 

"Of  course  not,"  replied  Julian. 

">I've  got  a  little  plunder  here  that  I'm  going  to 
keep  till  they  come  down  with  the  yellow  bovs  they  owe 
me." 

"What  sort  of  plunder?" 

"Why,  nuggets  and  gold-dust — twenty-five  hundred 
dollars'  worth.  You  see,  I  was  down  in  the  mines  the 
other  day,  and  heard  of  a  man  who  had  struck  a  lead 
and  was  going  home  that  very  day.  But  he  didn't  go." 

"Why  not?"  asked  the  boy,  when  Smirker  paused. 

"  'Cause  I  knocked  him  on  the  head — that's  why.  I've 
got  the  gold  hid  away  safe.  Do  you  want  to  go  back 
now,  or  will  you  stay  awhile?  I  am  lonesome  here  all 
by  myself." 

"  I  had  better  go  now,"  replied  Julian,  who  was  eager 
to  escape  from  the  man's  presence  at  the  earliest  possible 
moment.  "  I  am  in  something  of  a  hurry." 

Smirker  struck  up  a  lively  whistle,  and  taking  a 
bridle  down  from  a  pin  beside  the  door,  went  into  one 
of  the  stalls  and  brought  out  a  horse  which  looked 
enough  like  Snowdrop  to  have  been  her  brother.  He 
was  the  same  color,  the  same  size,  and  just  as  stylish 
and  spirited.  Julian  knew  that  he  was  expected  to  ride 
this  horse  away  and  leave  his  own  steed  in  the  care  of 
the  man;  and,  although  he  did  not  quite  like  the  ar- 
rangement, he  consoled  himself  with  the  thought  that 


JL74  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

if  he  never  saw  Snowdrop  again  he  would  lose  nothing 
by  the  exchange. 

"  You  ride  good  horses,  Fred/'  said  Smirker,  as  he 
put  Julian's  saddle  on  the  horse  he  had  just  brought 
out,  "but  you  had  better  take  my  advice  and  get  others 
of  a  different  color.  White  horses  don't  do  for  such 
business  as  this,  'cause  they  show  too  plain  of  nights; 
and  any  one  who  happens  to  pass  you  on  the  road  will 
remember  of  having  seen  you.  There  are  plenty  of 
better  horses  in  the  world,  and  the  one  I  am  going  to 
send  with  you  is  one  of  them." 

Smirker  having  by  this  time  saddled  and  bridled  the 
white  nag,  went  into  a  second  stall  and  brought  out  a 
large  bay  horse  which  he  walked  up  and  down  the  stable 
for  Julian's  inspection.  The  moment  the  boy's  eyes 
rested  on  him  he  became  reconciled  to  the  loss  of  his 
mare,  and  even  eager  to  part  with  her,  if  by  so  doing 
he  could  gain  possession  of  this  magnificent  animal. 
If  his  speed  and  endurance  were  equal  to  his  beauty,  he 
was  certainly  a  horse  worth  having. 

"  He's  lightning  on  wheels,"  declared  Smirker,  as  he 
slipped  a  bridle  over  the  bay's  head,  "and  perhaps  he 
will  give  you  as  much  as  you  want  to  do  to  lead  him. 
He  came  from  Fort  Stoughton,  and  was  stolen  from  the 
major,  who  had  just  brought  him  from  the  States. 
There  you  are/'  he  added,  waving  his  hand  toward  the 
horses,  intimating  by  the  gesture  that  Julian  was  at 
liberty  to  take  charge  of  them  as  soon  as  he  pleased. 
"I  wish  you  a  pleasant  journey.  You  have  been  very 
lucky  so  far,  and  I  hope  your  good  fortune  will  con- 
tinue." 

The  boy  was  prompt  to  take  advantage  of  the  permis- 
sion thus  given  him  to  leave  the  cabin.  He  quickly 
mounted  the  white  horse,  inquiring  as  he  did  so: 

"Any  word  to  send  to  anybody?" 

"Yes,  there  is,"  replied  Smirker,  "and  I  came  near 
forgetting  it.  You  can  tell  the  fellows  below  that  the 
captain's  cub  has  got  back  at  last/' 

"What  cub?" 

"  Why,  Julian;  the  one  he's  been  looking  for  so  long. 


JULIAN  GETS  INTO  BUSINESS.  175 

We'll  finger  some  of  that  money  and  find  out  where 
that  hidden  gold  mine  is  now." 

"  Does  this — this  cub  know  where  it  is?" 

"No,  but  Silas  Roper  does.  Sanders  was  here  this 
morning  and  told  me  the  whole  secret." 

"  The  captain  hasn't  got  hold  of  Silas,  has  he?" 

"Not  yet,  but  he  will  have  him  before  long.  It  is  a 
little  the  queerest  thing  I  ever  heard  of,  this  plan  of  the 
captain's  is,"  continued  Smirker,  placing  one  hand  on 
the  horn  of  Julian's  saddle,  and  settling  into  an  easy 
position  against  the  side  of  the  horse  as  if  he  had  a  long 
story  to  tell,  "and  it  shows  what  a  head  he's  got  on  his 
shoulders,  and  what  education  will  do  for  a  man.  You 
see — but  in  the  first  place  you  know  that  he  is  no  more 
of  a  Mortimer  than  I  am?" 

Julian,  not  daring  to  trust  himself  to  speak,  nodded 
his  head,  pulled  out  his  handkerchief  ostensibly  for  the 
purpose  of  wiping  his  forehead,  but  really  to  conceal 
the  sudden  pallor  which  he  knew  overspread  his  face,  and 
the  man  went  on: 

"  The  captain's  playing  a  deep  game,  and  he's  going  to 
succeed  in  it,  too.  He's  making  a  decoy  duck  of  Julian 
— using  him  to  keep  Silas  Roper  about  here  until  he 
can  catch  him;  and  when  he  once  gets  hold  of  him  and 
finds  out  where  the  money  and  the  nuggets  are,  he'll 
make  short  work  with  both  of  them." 

What  else  Smirker  was  about  to  say  Julian  never 
knew,  for  an  unexpected  interruption  occurred  at  that 
moment.  A  shrill  whistle,  sounding  from  some  point 
close  at  hand,  echoed  through  the  gorge.  It  produced 
a  strange  effect  upon  Julian's  companion,  for  he  turned 
as  pale  as  death,  and  the  hand  which  he  placed  upon 
the  butt  of  his  revolver  trembled  visibly.  He  stood 
motionless  until  the  whistle  was  repeated,  and  then  hur- 
ried across  the  floor  and  mounting  a  short  ladder  that 
leaned  against  the  wall  of  the  stable,  opened  the  win- 
dow before  spoken  of. 

No  sooner  had  he  looked  out  than  he  sprung  to  the 
ground  again,  and  with  a  volley  of  oaths  that  made 
Julian's  blood  run  cold,  strode  up  to  him  and  seized  him 
by  the  collar. 


176  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

"Look  here,  my  cub,"  lie  hissed,  between  his  clenched 
teeth,  "I  suspected  yon  all  along.  There  ain't  two 
White-horse  Freds  in  this  country,  and  I  know  it.  Who 
are  you?  Speak  quick!" 

As  he  said  this  he  pulled  his  revolver  from  his  belt 
and  leveled  it  at  Julian's  head. 


CHAPTEK  XXI. 

WHITE-HORSE     FRED. 

TJLIAN,  who  had  been  congratulating  him- 
self upon  the  ease  with  which  he  was  about 
to  extricate  himself  from  his  perilous  situa- 
tion, was  dismayed  at  this  turn  of  events. 
He  comprehended  the  matter  perfectly.  White-horse 
Fred,  so  called  probably  from  the  color  of  the  animals 
ne  rode,  was  a  member  of  a  band  of  horse  thieves  and 
robbers,  and  it  was  his  business  to  assist  in  moving  the 
plunder  from  one  point  to  another.  The  man  Smirker 
belonged  to  the  same  organization,  and  it  was  his  duty 
to  receive  and  care  for  the  booty  until  such  time  as  the 
authorized  agents  of  the  band  called  for  it.  He  had 

Srobably  been  on  the  lookout  for  his  confederate  when 
ulian  arrived. 

"  But  why  didn't  he  know  that  I  wasn't  White-horse 
Fred  as  soon  as  he  looked  into  my  face?"  thought  the 
boy,  so  nearly  overcome  with  terror  that  he  did  not 
hear  the  words  that  had  been  addressed  to  him.  "And 
how  does  it  happen  that  I  was  riding  Fred's  horse? 
How  did  my  uncle  come  by  him?  I  can't  understand 
it?" 

"Speak  quick!"  repeated  Smirker,  savagely,  "and 
don't  try  to  draw  no  weapons.  Who  are  you  ?" 

He  pulled  back  the  hammer  of  his  pistol  with  the 
thumb  of  his  right  hand  as  he  spoke,  and  shifting  his 
left  from  Julian's  collar  to  the  butt  of  the  revolver 
which  the  boy  was  on  the  point  of  pulling  from  his 
belt. 

"Who  should  I  be?"  returned  Julian  boldly.  "If 
I've  no  business  here  how  came  I  by  that  horse  I  brought 
you?  That's  what  I'd  like  to  know." 

"And  if  that  fellow  out  there  ain't  White-horse  Fred 


178  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

how  did  he  give  Fred's  whistle  so  exact,  and  how  did 
he  come  by  Fred's  clothes?  That's  what  I'd  like  to 
know." 

It  was  plain,  both  from  Smirker's  tone  and  manner, 
that  he  began  to  believe  that  he  had  been  a  little  too 
hasty.  He  let  go  Julian's  pistol,  lowered  the  hammer 
of  his  own  weapon,  and  stood  gazing  at  our  hero  with 
an  expression  of  great  bewilderment  on  his  face. 

"  Wouldn't  it  be  a  good  plan  to  ask  him?"  suggested 
Julian. 

Smirker  thought  it  would.  He  jerked  open  the  door 
of  the  stable,  and  Julian,  who  was  on  the  point  of  dash- 
ing his  spurs  into  his  horse  and  riding  over  the  robber 
and  making  good  his  escape,,  found  his  way  blocked  up 
by  a  dashing  young  fellow,  who  rode  gayly  into  the 
stable,  but  stopped  short  on  discovering  Julian,  and 
checked  the  words  of  greeting  that  arose  to  his  lips. 
For  fully  a  minute  no  one  spoke.  The  two  boys  sat  on 
their  horses  staring  at  one  another,  and  Smirker,  after 
closing  and  locking  the  door,  took  his  stand  between 
them,  looking  first  at  the  new-comer  and  then  at  Julian, 
apparently  unable  to  come  to  any  decision  concerning 
them. 

The  strange  equestrian  was  a  youth  about  Julian's  age 
and  size,  only  a  little  more  robust,  and  had  the  two  been 
dressed  alike  it  would  have  been  a  matter  of  some  diffi- 
culty for  any  one  to  tell  them  apart.  Julian  looked  as 
if  he  had  just  come  out  of  a  lady's  bandbox,  while  the 
new-comer  seemed  to  have  bestowed  but  little  care  upon 
his  toilet  that  morning.  His  dress  consisted  of  a  red 
flannel  shirt,  open  at  the  throat  and  worn  without  a  coat, 
coarse  trowsers,  which  were  thrust  into  a  pair  of  high- 
top  boots,  and  a  broad-brimmed  hat.  A  belt  encircled 
his  waist,  supporting  a  knife  on  one  side  and  a  revolver 
on  the  other.  .He  rode  a  small  Indian  pony,  which, 
judging  by  its  appearance,  had  been  driven  long  and 
rapidly. 

"Now,  then/'  said  Smirker,  who  was  the  first  to  re- 
cover the  use  of  his  tongue,  "one  of  you  two  fellows 
has  got  himself  in  the  worst  kind  of  a  scrape — one  that 


WHITE-HORSE  FRED.  179 

he  will  never  get  out  of  alive.  Which  is  White-horse 
Fred?" 

Julian  had  shown  a  tolerably  bold  front  as  long  as  a 
hope  of  escape  remained,  but  now  that  he  found  the 
door  of  the  stable  locked  upon  him,  and  himself  com- 
pletely at  the  mercy  of  the  two  robbers,  his  courage 
gave  Avay  utterly,  and  he  could  not  have  made  an  in- 
telligent reply  to  Smirker's  question  even  if  he  had  had 
any  thing  to  say. 

The  new-comer  was  the  genuine  White-horse  Fred — 
there  could  be  no  doubt  about  that,  for  he  had  given 
the  signal  when  he  approached  the  cabin,  and  more  than 
that,  tSmirker  had  recognized  him  by  the  clothes  he 
wore. 

Giving  himself  up  for  lost,  Julian  waited  almost  im- 
patiently for  the  strange  horseman  to  speak,  believing 
that  the  opening  of  his  lips  would  be  the  signal  for  his 
own  death.  What,  then,  was  his  amazement  when  he 
heard  the  boy  exclaim: 

"White-horse  Fred!  If  there  is  anyone  here  that 
goes  by  that  name,  it  must  be  you  or  that  young  gentle- 
man over  there." 

"Then  you  ain't  him!"  said  Smirker,  growing  more 
and  more  perplexed. 

"No.     Do  I  look  like  him!" 

"  You  sartinly  do,  and  act  like  him.  What  were  you 
whistling  out  there  for?" 

"  Oh,  just  to  hear  the  echo." 

"And  what  made  you  come  in  nere?" 

"Because  you  opened  the  door." 

"  You  talk  like  White-horse  Fred,  too.  But  if  you 
hain't  him  you're  where  you've  got  no  business  to  be, 
and  you'll  never  get  away,  nuther." 

8mirker  raised  his  revolver  and  pointed  it  at  the  boy's 
breast.  Julian,  faint  with  terror,  turned  away  his  head 
and  held  his  breath  in  suspense;  but  the  stranger  never 
flinched  so  much  as  a  hair's  breadth. 

"  Don't  do  anything  rash,"  said  he  calmly.  "  I  have 
told  you  who  I  am  not,  and  now  you  had  better  ask  me 
who  I  am." 


]  80  JULIAN  At  OR  TIMER. 

"  I  don't  care  who  you  are.     You're  a  dead  man." 

"And  you  will  be  another  in  less  than  an  hour/'  re- 
plied the  boy,  without  the  least  sign  of  alarm.  "  My 
Uncle  Reginald  Mortimer's  servant  is  close  behind  me. 
He  will  know  that  I  came  in  here,  and  if  I  don't  go  out 
again  he  will  also  know  what  has  become  of  me." 

Smirker  lowered  his  revolver,  and  falling  back  a  step 
or  two,  stared  blankly  at  the  speaker,  and  then  at  our 
hero.  The  astonishment  his  face  exhibited  was  fully 
reflected  in  Julian's.  The  latter's  terror  had  all  given 
way  to  surprise.  He  forgot  Smirker  and  his  revolver, 
the  danger  of  his  situation,  and  every  thing  else  except 
the  last  few  words  the  stranger  had  uttered:  "  My  Uncle 
Reginald  Mortimer."  Who  was  this  fellow  who  was 
going  about  claiming  Julian's  relative  as  his  own  ? 

"You  have  concluded  not  to  shoot  me,  haven't  you?" 
asked  the  boy,  whose  coolness  and  courage  were  wonder- 
ful to  behold. 

"Who  are  you?"  demanded  Smirker. 

"My  name  is  Julian  Mortimer.  I  am  a  stranger 
here,  having  but  just  arrived  from  the  States.  I  came 
out  this  morning  to  take  a  ride,  and  it  seems  I  have  got 
into  a  place  where  I  am  not  wanted.  I  beg  pardon  for 
my  intrusion,  and  will  thank  you  to  open  that  door  and 
let  me  out." 

"Julian  Mortimer!"  exclaimed  Smirker. 

"Julian  Mortimer!"  echoed  the  owner  of  that  name, 
in  a  scarcely  audible  voice. 

If  our  hero  had  been  surprised  before,  he  was  doubly 
so  now.  He  could  scarcely  believe  that  he  had  heard 
aright.  If  this  stranger  was  Julian  Mortimer,  who  in 
the  world  was  he,  Julian  asked  himself.  Were  there 
two  boys  of  that  name  in  existence,  and  was  Uncle 
Reginald  the  guardian  of  both,  and  holding  in  his 
hands  a  valuable  property  to  be  surrendered  to  them 
when  they  reached  their  majority? 

He  rubbed  his  eyes  to  make  sure  he  was  not  dreaming, 
and  looked  hard  at  the  stranger,  who  seemed  not  a  little 
astonished  at  the  sensation  he  had  created. 

As  for  Smirker,  he  was  as  nearly  beside  himself  as  a 


WHITE-HORSE  FRED.  181 

sane  man  could  well  be;  and,  what  was  very  singular, 
ho  seemed  all  of  a  sudden  to  have  discovered  some 
reason  for  wishing  to  keep  as  far  away  from  Julian  as 
possible,  for  he  backed  into  one  of  the  stables  and  stood 
eying  him  like  a  caged  hyena. 

"Well,  what  of  it?"  said  the  stranger.  "Perhaps 
you  don't  believe  what  I  told  you.  If  it  is  necessary 
that  I  should  furnish  proof,  I  can  do  so.  Open  the 
door  and  let  me  out." 

"  You  spoke  that  name  just  in  time/'  said  Smirker 
fiercely,  "for  in  a  minute  more  you  would  have  been 
done  for.  If  you  are  really  the  captain's  cub,  you  are 
worth  too  much  to  us  to  be  put  out  of  the  way  yet 
awhile.  But  not  much  I  won't  let  you  out-doors. 
Your  story  may  be  true,  and  it  may  not.  I  am  going 
to  keep  you  here  till  I  can  send  to  headquarters  and  find 
out." 

"  All  right,"  replied  the  boy,  swinging  himself  from 
his  saddle  and  gazing  about  the  stable  as  if  everything 
he  saw  in  it  was  full  of  interest  to  him.  "  I  am  easily 
suited.  I'd  as  soon  stay  here  an  hour  or  two  as  not.  I 
never  was  in  a  house  like  this  before.  What  makes  you 
call  'cm  all  ranchos?" 

"  Look  a  here,"  added  Smirker,  turning  to  our  hero. 
"If  this  fellow  is  Julian  Mortimer,  who  are  you?" 

"  Are  you  not  yet  satisfied  that  I  am  White-h'orse 
Fred?"  asked  Julian  in  reply.  "  Perhaps  you  want  me 
to  prove  it." 

Julian's  terror  had  all  passed  away  now,  and  he  was  in 
his  right  mind  again.  There  was  still  a  chance  of  escape. 
Although  he  had  not  the  remotest  idea  who  the  new- 
comer was,  he  had  heard  and  seen  enough  to  satisfy  him 
that  he  was  a  stranger  in  that  wilderness  as  well  as  him- 
self, and  that  he  was  not  White-horse  Fred,  consequently 
he  ran  no  risk  in  continuing  to  personate  the  character 
he  had  been  compelled  to  assume.  Indeed,  it  was  the 
only  thing  he  could  do.  He  was  impatient  to  be  off, 
too,  for  the  real  White-horse  Fred  might  arrive  at  any 
moment,  and  then  something  would  certainly  happen. 

"  There's  a  mystery  at  the  bottom  of  this,  and  I'll  bet 


182  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

a  horse  on  it,"  said  Smirker,  shaking  his  fists  in  the  air, 
and  striding  up  and  down  the  stable.  "  I  know  you  are 
White-horse  Fred/'  he  added,  addressing  himself  to  our 
hero,  "but — but — what's  the  rest  of  your  name?  Fred 
what?" 

"  Fred  nothing.  That's  all  the  name  I've  got.  I 
never  had  any  other." 

"Well,  you  have  got  another,  and  if  it  is  the  one  I 
think  it  is,  I  don't  see  how  in  the  world  you  come  to  be 
riding  about  here.  You  had  ought  to  be  at  the  bottom 
of  the  lake.  I'll  see  the  fellows  below  this  very  night, 
and  have  a  new  runner  put  on  this  route,  or  I'll  give  up 
the  station.  I  ain't  a  going  to  have  no  such  fellow  as 
you  coming  about  me.  You  can't  get  out  of  here  any 
too  sudden." 

This  speech  was  all  Greek  to  Julian,  except  the  last 
sentence.  That  he  understood  perfectly,  and  was  quite 
ready  to  act  upon  the  suggestion  it  contained.  The 
moment  Smirker  opened  the  door  of  the  stable  he  dashed 
the  spurs  into  his  horse,  which  sprung  forward  like  an 
arrow  from  a  bow,  and  tore  down  the  path  with  the 
speed  of  the  wind,  the  bay  following.  In  a  few  seconds 
he  was  out  of  sight. 

Scarcely  waiting  for  Julian  to  get  fairly  out  of  the 
stable,  Smirker  slammed  the  door  and  locked  it,  and 
turning  fiercely  upon  his  new  prisoner  disarmed  him  by 
jerking  off  the  belt  which  contained  his  knife  and 
revolver.  Having  thus  put  it  out  of  the  boy's  power  to 
do  any  mischief,  Smirker  suddenly  seemed  to  become 
unconscious  of  his  presence.  He  had  much  to  think 
about,  and  for  the  next  quarter  of  an  hour  he  gave  him- 
self up  entirely  to  his  reflections,  never  once  casting  a 
single  glance  toward  his  companion.  He  paced  up  and 
down  the  stable  with  long  strides,  shaking  his  head  and 
muttering,  and  trying  in  vain  to  find  some  explanation 
for  the  strange,  and  to  him  bewildering,  incidents  that 
had  just  occurred.  They  were  more  than  bewildering — 
they  were  absolutely  terrifying,  as  the  expression  on  his 
face  and  his  whole  bearing  and  manner  abundantly 
proved.  He  walked  with  a  very  unsteady  step,  his  burly 


WHITE-HORSE  FRED.  1Q3 

frame  trembled  like  an  oak  in  a  storm,  and  now  and 
then  he  raised  his  hand  to  dash  away  the  perspiration 
which  stood  on  his  forehead  like  drops  of  ram. 

The  prisoner  was  as  cool  and  collected  as  ever.  -Being 
left  to  himself,  he  strolled  carelessly  about  the  stable, 
examining  every  object  in  it,  and  occasionally  directing 
his  gaze  toward  the  open  door  leading  from  the  stable 
into  the  living-room  of  the  cabin.  Finally  he  leaned 
against  one  of  the  stalls,  and  when  Smirker's  back  was 
turned  hastily  pulled  something  from  his  pocket  and 
tossed  it  into  the  manger — something  that  gave  out  a 
ringing,  metallic  sound  as  it  fell.  The  noise,  slight  as 
it  was,  caught  the  man's  ear  and  aroused  him  from  his 
reverie.  He  turned  and  confronted  his  prisoner  at 
once. 

"What  you  doing  there?"  he  demanded. 

"  Nothing  at  all,"  was  the  reply.  "  I  am  waiting  as 
patiently  as  I  can  for  you  to  explain  why  you  have  robbed 
me  of  my  weapons,  and  are  keeping  me  here.  I  assure 
you  that  my  Uncle  Reginald  will  have  something  to  say 
to  you  about  this  before  you  are  many  hours  older." 

"What  you  doing  there?"  repeated  Smirker  fiercely; 
"  I  heard  something  chink." 

' '  Perhaps  it  was  my  persuaders/'  said  the  boy,  lifting 
his  boot  and  exhibiting  a  huge  Mexican  spur,  orna- 
mented with  little  silver  bells,  which  tinkled  musically 
as  he  moved  his  feet  about. 

"  P'raps  it  was,  and  p'raps  most  likely  it  wasn't. 
Haven't  I  lived  long  enough  to  tell  the  difference  between 
the  rattling  of  spurs  and  the  jingling  of  money?  I  have, 
I  bet  you.  I'll  soon  find  out  what  you've  been  up  to." 

Smirker  walked  into  the  stall  in  front  of  which  the 
boy  was  standing,  and  then  for  the  first  time  the  prisoner 
began  to  show  signs  of  anxiety.  He  closely  watched  the 
man's  movements,  and  cast  frequent  and  impatient 
glances  toward  the  door  of  the  living-room,  as  if  he  were 
expecting  and  earnestly  desiring  the  arrival  of  some  one. 

Smirker  was  in  the  stall  but  a  few  moments,  and  when 
he  came  out  he  carried  in  his  hand  a  small  canvas  bag, 
at  the  sight  of  which  the  prisoner  turned  white  with 


184  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

terror.  Taking  his  stand  under  the  lantern,  Smirker 
nntied  the  string  with  which  the  bag  was  fastened;  but 
no  sooner  did  his  eyes  fall  upon  its  contents  than  he 
dropped  it  as  if  it  had  been  a  coal  of  fire,  and  his  face 
grew  livid  with  rage  and  alarm. 

"  Betrayed!"  he  roared,  stamping  his  feet  furiously 
upon  the  ground,  and  nourishing  his  fists  in  the  air. 
"And,  fool  that  I  was,  I  might  have  known  it!  I  sus- 
pected it  from  the  beginning." 

"  What's  the  matter?"  asked  the  boy,  and  his  voice 
was  as  firm  and  steady  as  ever. 

"What's  the  matter?"  shrieked  Smirker,  driven 
almost  insane  by  his  intense  passion.  "  Do  you  stand 
there  and  ask  me  what's  the  matter?  It's  the  last 
question  you  will  ever  ask  me,  for  you  are  as  good  as  a 
dead  man  already.  Didn't  I  say  that  there  was  some- 
thing at  the  bottom  of  all  this?  You  are  White-horse 
Fred — that  bag  proves  it.  It  contains  nuggets,  and 
gold-dust,  and  money — my  share  of  the  swag  which  I 
have  received  and  sent  to  the  fellows  below.  I  expected 
to  get  it  from  tbat  other  boy,  and  asked  him  for  it;  but 
of  course  he  couldn't  give  it  to  me,  being  an  imposter. 
And  I  allowed  him  to  go  off  scot  free,  and  even  told  him 
some  secrets  that  nobody  outside  the  band  ought  to 
know.  How  long  will  it  take  him  to  ride  to  the  fort 
and  tell  what  he  has  seen  and  heard,  and  lead  a  squad 
of  soldiers  back  here?  And  you  helped  him  out  in  it — 
you,  a  sworn  member  of  the  band!  Now,  you  shall  tell 
me  what  you  mean  by  acting  as  you  have  done.  Speak 
in  a  hurry,  or  I'll  choke  it  out  of  you !" 

Smirker,  howling  out  these  words  with  a  fierceness 
and  energy  which  showed  that  he  was  terribly  in  earnest, 
advanced  toward  his  prisoner  in  a  low,  crouching  atti- 
tude, something  like  that  a  wild  beast  would  assume 
Avhen  about  to  spring  upon  its  prey. 

The  boy's  face  was  very  pale,  but  he  bravely  stood  his 
ground.  Knowing  that  escape  was  impossible,  he  was 
prepared  to  fight  desperately  for  his  life. 

"Will  you  tell  me?"  asked  the  robber,  creeping  for- 
ward with  a  slow,  cat-like  motion. 


WHITE-HORSE  FRED.  185 

"  I  have  nothing  to  tell/' replied  the  boy,  "except 
this:  I  have  friends  close  at  hand,  and  they  ought  to  be 
here  now." 

"  Then  I  will  have  this  business  over  before  they 
arrive." 

"  Come  on,  and  I  will  show  you  what  a  Mortimer  is 
made  of." 

Before  the  words  of  defiance  had  fairly  left  the  boy's 
lips,  Smirker  bounded  forward,  and  the  two  closed  in  a 
death  struggle. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE   SPECTERS   OF  THE   CAVE. 

HE  FIGHT  was  of  longer  duration  and  was 
much  more  desperate  than  one  would  sup- 
pose it  could  have  been,  considering  the  im- 
mense advantage  which  Smirker  possessed 
over  his  wiry  antagonist  in  weight  and  muscle;  but  of 
course  it  could  end  in  but  one  way.  White-horse  Fred, 
bruised  and  exhausted,  was  borne  to  the  ground  at  last, 
with  the  man's  knee  on  his  breast  and  his  brawny  hand 
at  his  throat. 

"Now  let's  hear  from  you,"  hissed  Smirker.  "Who 
was  that  fellow  who  came  here  and  passed  himself  off 
for  you,  and  why  did  you  help  him  out  in  it?  Speak, 
before  I  choke  the  life  out  of  you." 

If  Fred  could  have  obeyed  his  reply  would  have  been 
as  defiant  as  ever;  but  the  powerful  grasp  on  his  throat 
rendered  articulation  impossible. 

"You  won't  tell  me?" demanded  Smirker;  "then  take 
the  reward  of  your  treachery." 

The  robber's  hand  glided  around  his  side  to  his  belt, 
and  when  it  came,  in  sight  again  it  brought  with  it  a 
gleaming  bowie-knife,  which  was  raised  in  the  air  above 
tho  prisoner's  breast;  but  just  as  it  was  on  the  point  of 
descending  it  was  arrested  as  effectually  as  though  the 
arm  which  wielded  it  had  been  turned  into  stone. 

"Hold  hard,  thar!" 

The  words,  uttered  by  a  strange  voice  and  spoken  in 
a  tone  of  stern  command,  rang  through  the  stable  with 
startling  distinctness.  Smirker  raised  his  eyes  and  there, 
standing  in  the  door  to  which  Fred  had  so  often  directed 
b-is  gaze,  was  a  gigantic  figure  clad  in  buckskin,  holding 
in  his  hands  a  long,  heavy  rifle,  the  muzzle  of  which  was 
pointed  straight  at  the  robber's  head, 


THE  SPECTERS  OF  THE  CA  VE.  18? 

" Silas  Roper!"  gasped  Fred's  antagonist. 

"  'Taiu't  nobody  else,  as  you'll  find  out  mighty  sud- 
den if  you  move  an  eyelid,"  was  the  reply.  "Drop  that 
we'pon  an'  get  up  from  thar." 

The  command  was  no  sooner  uttered  than  it  was 
obeyed  by  the  trembling  Smirker,  who  threw  down  his 
knife  and  slunk  away  like  a  whipped  cur  before  the  stal- 
wart trapper,  as  he  came  striding  into  the  stable,  and 
retreating  toward  the  nearest  stall,  held  both  his  hands 
above  his  head  in  token  of  surrender. 

"  None  of  that  ar,  now,"  said  Silas,  as  he  bent  over 
the  prostrate  form  of  the  boy.  "Keep  out  in  plain 
sight  whar  I  can  have  an  eye  on  you.  Are  you  bad  hurt, 
Fred?  If  you  are,  that  feller's  signed  his  death-war- 
rant." 

"No!  no!"  moaned  the  boy  faintly.  "Don't  touch 
him." 

Smirker  was  amazed  to  hear  the  one  who  had  so  nar- 
rowly escaped  death  at  his  hands  interceding  for  him. 
It  relieved  him  of  all  fear  of  bodily  injury,  and  ho 
straightway  began  to  recover  his  composure;  but  he 
drew  a  step  or  two  nearer  to  Fred's  side,  thinking  it 
best  to  keep  as  far  as  possible  out  of  the  reach  of  the 
giant,  whom  he  knew  had  good  cause  to  be  at  enmity 
with  him. 

"I  shall  be  all  right  as  soon  as  I  have  had  time  to  re- 
cover the  breath  he  choked  out  of  me,"  continued  the 
the  latter.  "Oh,  Silas,  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you!  But 
why  didn't  you  come  just  a  few  minutes  sooner.  I  have 
seen  him.  He  was  in  this  very  stable." 

"  Him ! "  repeated  the  trapper.   "Who?  Not  Julian  ? '' 

"  Yes,  Julian.  I  didn't  think  I  should  know  him 
when  I  met  him,  but  I  did.  I  wanted  to  throw  my 
arms  around  him  and  tell  him  that  he  was  my  brother, 
but  Smirker  was  in  the  way.  I  am  terribly  disappointed 
in  him,  Silas.  He  is  from  the  States,  you  know,  and  I 
expected  to  see  a  boy  who  hadn't  courage  enough  to  face 
a  sheep.  But  he'll  do." 

"  Why,  how  come  he  here?"  asked  Silas  in  great  as- 
tonishment. 


188  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

"  I  haven't  the  least  idea.  Make  Smirker  tell.  He'll 
do  anything  you  ask  him." 

"How  was  it?"  demanded  the  trapper,  turning  to  the 
owner  of  the  cabin.  "  Tell  nothing  but  the  truth." 

Smirker  was  too  completely  cowed  by  the  presence  of 
the  giant,  with  whose  powers  he  had  more  than  once 
been  made  fully  acquainted,  to  fabricate  a  falsehood 
even  if  he  had  anything  to  gain  by  it.  Not  daring  to 
disobey,  or  even  to  hesitate,  he  began,  and  in  a  faltering 
voice  told  the  story  of  Julian's  visit  to  his  cabin  just  as 
we  have  related  it.  He  also  described  what  had  taken 
place  after  Fred's  arrival,  but  added  that  Silas  must  ask 
the  boy  to  explain  that,  for  it  was  something  he  could 
not  comprehend. 

"I  can  soon  make  it  plain  to  you,"  said  White-horse 
Fred,  now  taking  up  the  story.  "You  can't  imagine 
how  surprised  I  was  to  find  Julian  here,  and  if  Smirker 
had  possessed  any  control  over  himself  I  should  not 
have  known  what  to  do.  But  the  way  he  looked  and 
acted  gave  me  a  clew,  and  I  saw  through  the  whole 
thing  as  clearly  as  if  it  had  been  explained  to  me  in 
words.  Uncle  Reginald,  you  know,  happened  to  ride  by 
old  Antoine's  cabin  the  other  dii/  while  I  was  absent,  and 
seeing  one  of  my  horses,  Snowdrop,  there,  suddenly  con- 
ceived a  violent  passion  for  her  and  took  possession  of 
her  without  saying  so  much  as  'by  your  leave.'  I  won- 
dered what  he  intended  to  do  with  her  and  now  I  have 
found  out.  He  gave  her  to  my  brother.  Julian  this 
morning  thought  he  would  take  a  ride  and  look  over 
the  country,  and  not  knowing  that  the  horse  belonged 
to  a  band  of  robbers,  gave  her  a  loose  rein  and  she 
brought  him  here.  Finding  that  he  had  got  himself 
into  trouble,  he  acted  upon  some  hint  that  Smirker 
gave  him  and  passed  himself  off  for  me;  and  if  /  had 
not  arrived  just  as  I  did,  he  would  have  got  away  with- 
out being  suspected.  To  help  him  out  of  the  difficulty, 
I  told  Smirker  that  my  name  was  Julian  Mortimer,  and 
the  blockhead  believed  it." 

"  Thar  ain't  nothing  so  very  strange  in  that,"  observed 
Silas.  "No  man  on  airth  could  tell  you  two  apart  if 
you  was  dressed  alike." 


THE  SPECTERS  OF  THE  CAVE.  189 

"But  we  wore  not.  Smirkcr  has  seen  me  in  these 
clothes  a  hundred  times,  I  suppose,  and  I  should  think 
he  ought  to  have  recognized  me.  Now  that  I  think  of 
it,  I  ran  something  of  a  risk,  didn't  I?  Suppose  that 
when  I  said  that  my  name  was  Julian  Mortimer,  my 
brother  had  lost  his  courage  and  revealed  himself? 
Wouldn't  I  have  been  in  a  scrape?  I  depended  entirely 
upon  his  presence  of  mind  to  carry  me  through,  and  I 
didn't  lose  by  it.  But  wasn't  he  astonished,  though?  I 
thought  he  would  tumble  out  of  his  saddle.  But  he 
behaved  pretty  well,  considering  that  he  is  from  the 
States." 

"  Why  didn't  you  want  to  tell  me  who  he  was?"  asked 
Smirker,  who  had  listened  attentively  to  the  story. 

"I  would  have  been  smart  to  do  that,  wouldn't  I?" 
returned  White-horse  Fred.  "  Suppose  I  had  told  you, 
and  you  had  succeeded  in  making  an  end  of  me  before 
Silas  came,  what  would  you  have  done?  You  would 
have  gone  straight  to  Uncle  Reginald  and  told  him  what 
had  happened,  and  he  would —  Well,  it's  enough  for 
you  to  know  that  he  would  have  made  trouble  for  Ju- 
lian. Silas,  if  you  had  only  come  a  few  minutes  sooner 
he  would  have  been  with  us  now.  I  am  uneasy  about 
him.  lie  will  get  into  difficulty  when  he  gets  home, 
now  you  see  if  he  doesn't." 

"I  couldn't  come  no  sooner,"  replied  the  trapper; 
"'cause  I  had  more  trouble  than  I  thought  I'd  have 
crawlin'  down  that  long,  dark  passage-way  that  leads 
from  the  top  of  the  cliff.  What's  the  matter  with  you?" 

This  question  was  addressed  to  Smirker,  who  suddenly 
began  to  exhibit  a  greater  degree  of  terror  than  the  cir- 
cumstances seemed  to  warrant.  The  show  of  courage 
he  had  maintained  ever  since  he  found  that  Fred  was 
disposed  to  stand  between  him  and  the  vengeance  of  the 
trapper  vanished  as  quickly  as  it  had  appeared;  and 
scarcely  able  to  retain  »an  upright  position,  he  was 
obliged  to  lean  against  the  wall  for  support. 

"  You  needn't  be  no  ways  skeery,"  said  Silas,  who 
seemed  to  feel  some  compassion  for  the  trembling 
wretch.  "  We've  got  plenty  agin  you,  but  if  you  behave 


190  JULIAN  MORTTMER. 

yourself,  nobody's  goin'  to  hurt  you.  All  we  ask  of  you 
is  to  tell  us  something  we  want  to  know;  an'  if  you  will 
do  that,  we'll  turn  you  loose,  an'  you  can  dig  out  of  this 
country  as  soon  as  you  please." 

"I'll  tell  you  anything,"  replied  Smirker  quickly. 
"But  first  I'd  like  to  have  you  tell  me  something. 
When  I  Avas  going  to  pitch  into  you,"  he  added,  turning 
to  White-horse  Fred,  "you  told  me  to  come  on,  and 
you  would  show  me  what  a  Mortimer  was  made  of, 
did  n't  you?" 

"I  did,"  replied  the  boy.  "I  knew,  of  course,  that 
you  were  too  much  for  me,  but  I  wasn't  going  to  sur- 
render. That's  something  I  don't  know  how  to  do." 

"  And  you  have  said  two  or  three  times  thfct  Julian  is 
your  brother,  hain't  you  ?"  Smirker  went  on. 

"  I  have,  and  he  is." 

"  Then  you  must  be  the  son  of  old  Major  Mortimer?" 

"  I  am  proud  to  say  that  I  am." 

"Well,  now  if  you  are,  what  business  you  got  walking 
about  on  top  of  the  ground?  That's  what  I'd  like  to 
know.  You  had  ought  to  be  at  the  bottom  of  the  lake 
that  lies  behind  your  father's  rancho.  Sanders  put  you 
there,  'cause  I  seen  him  do  it  with  my  own  eyes." 

"I  know  he  did,  and  my  body  is  there  yet,"  replied 
White-horse  Fred. 

"Eh?"  exclaimed  Smirker,  drawing  away  from  the 
boy  toward  the  trapper. 

"  Don't  you  know  that  a  Mortimer  can't  be  killed?" 
asked  Fred,  who,  having  recovered  from  the  effects  of  his 
struggle  with  the  robber,  was  his  jolly,  reckless  self  once 
more.  "And  have  you  not  yet  learned  that  the  mem- 
bers of  our  family  have  the  power  of  throwing  the  shield 
of  their  protection  around  their  servants?  It's  a  fact. 
You  remember  old  Juan,  do  you  not?  Dick  Mortimer 
shot  him  twice  with  his  own  hands,  and  you  knocked 
him  on  the  head  with  the  butt  of  your  rifle;  and  then 
you  both  picked  him  up  and  threw  him  over  a  cliff, 
didn't  you?" 

"  There  ain't  no  use  in  saying  we  didn't,"  replied 
Smirker.  "  But  I  was  hired  to  hel^  in  that  work." 


THE  SPECTERS  OF  THE  CA  J'£.  191 

"  Oh,  of  course.  Men  always  have  some  excuse  for 
doing  wrong.  Well,  that  old  fellow's  body  may  be  at 
the  bottom  of  that  gorge  now,  but  I  don't  believe  it  is. 
There  is  something  that  looks  wonderfully  like  him 
walking  about  above  ground  this  very  day.  If  you  want 
to  see  it  we  can  show  it  to  you." 

"  You  needn't  put  yourselves  to  no  trouble/'  whined 
Smirker.  "  Ask  me  all  the  questions  you  want  to  and 
turn  me  loose." 

"  The  old  chap  walks  around  of  nights,  too,"  con- 
tinued White-horse  Fred,  in  a  tone  of  voice  that  made 
the  cold  chills  creep  all  over  his  listener,  "  assisting  his 
friends  in  every  possible  way  and  executing  all  sorts  of 
vengeance ^m  his  enemies.  How  would  you  feel  if  you 
should  wake  up  about  midnight  and  see  him  coming  to- 
ward you  just  this  way?" 

Fred  threw  himself  into  a  crouching  posture,  similar 
to  that  which  Smirker  had  assumed  a  few  minutes  be- 
fore, drew  his  head  down  between  his  shoulders,  dis- 
torted his  features,  opened  his  eyes  and  mouth  to  their 
widest  extent,  spread  out  his  fingers  like  the  claws  of  a 
wild  beast,  and  crept  slowly  toward  the  robber. 

" Don't!"  cried  Smirker. 

"  We're  goin'  to  take  you  right  whar  he  was  seed 
last,"  said  Silas,  who  believing  that  time  enough  had 
been  wasted,  thought  it  best  to  bring  Fred's  pleasantries 
to  an  end;  "and  if  you  don't  tell  us  what  we  want  to 
know  we'll  show  him  to  you  as  sure  as  you're  a  hoss- 
thief.  Put  the  saddles  on  the  critters,  Fred,  while  I  tie 
this  feller." 

"  I  will  tell  you  what  you  want  to  know  now,"  said 
Smirker,  who  continued  to  exhibit  the  most  abject 
terror. 

"Yes;  but  you  see  we  want  to  take  you  to  a  place 
whar  we  can  keep  you  safe  till  we  find  out  whether  or 
not  you  tell  us  the  truth." 

As  Silas  spoke  he  detached  a  halter  from  one  of  the 
bridles  hanging  on  the  wall,  and  with  it  securely  bound 
the  arms  of  his  prisoner,  who  remonstrated  earnestly 
against  the  proceeding,  but  never  once  thought  of 
resistance. 


192  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

By  the  time  this  was  done  Fred  had  saddled  the  two 
horses  in  the  stable,  one  of  which  was  Snowdrop,  and 
the  other  an  animal  belonging  to  Smirker,  replaced  the 
belt  containing  the  revolver  and  knife  about  his  waist, 
and  also  secured  possession  of  the  bag  containing  the 
nuggets  and  gold-dust.  Silas  then  mounted  Smirker's 
horse,  and  bending  down  from  his  saddle  and  placing 
his  arm  about  his  prisoner,  raised  him  to  a  seat  behind 
him  as  easily  as  if  he  had  been  a  child. 

In  a  few  minutes  more  the  trio  were  riding  down  the 
gully  at  a  brisk  trot.  Silas  and  his  young  companion 
held  their  weapons  ready  for  instant  use,  and  kept  a 
good  lookout  on  all  sides  of  them.  If  they  chanced  to 
meet  any  of  the  band  of  which  their  prisoner  was  a 
member,  they  might  be  called  upon  to  fight  for  posses- 
sion of  him.  But  they  accomplished  the  descent  of  the 
gorge,  crossed  the  valley,  and  entered  the  woods  on  the 
opposite  side  without  meeting  anyone,  and  finally  found 
themselves  in  the  vicinity  of  the  rancho.  Here  they 
became  very  cautious  in  their  movements,  White-horse 
Fred  leading  the  way  at  a  slow  walk,  and  frequently 
stopping  to  look  about  and  listen.  Presently  he  dis- 
mounted in  a  dense  thicket,  and  having  tied  his  nag  to 
one  of  the  bushes,  seated  himself  on  the  ground,  his 
example  being  followed  by  the  trapper.  For  fully  half 
an  hour  they  and  their  prisoner  sat  motionless  in  their 
place  of  concealment,  and  at  the  end  of  that  time  Silas 
Koper's  quick  ear  caught  the  sound  of  a  stealthy  foot- 
fall. He  communicated  the  fact  to  Fred  in  a  whisper, 
and  the  latter  was  instantly  on  the  alert.  He  crept  away 
through  the  bushes,  and  presently  came  back  again. 

"It's  Dick,"  said  he,  in  a  low  tone;  "and  after 
Julian  again  Fll  warrant.  Isn't  he  persevering?  He  is 
coming  down  the  hill.  Do  you  think  I  could  get  ahead 
of  him?" 

"I  reckon  you  might  if  you're  right  lively, ''  replied 
the  guide.  "  But  be  careful  of  what  you  do.  One  mis- 
take would  spile  everything." 

The  active  Fred  was  out  of  sight  almost  before  Silas 
had  ceased  speaking.  Threading  his  way  rapidly  but 


THE  SPECTERS  OF  THE  CA  VE.  193 

noiselessly  through  the  woods,  he  reached  the  bottom  of 
a  Ayide  and  deep  ravine,  Avhich  lie  crossed  Avith  a  feAv 
SAvift  bounds.  Arriving  at  the  base  of  a  hill  on  the 
opposite  side,  he  pushed  aside  a  thick  cluster  of  bushes, 
disclosing  to  view  a  dark  opening,  which  seemed  to  ex- 
tend far  down  into  the  regions  below.  Into  this  he 
dived  like  a  squirrel  going  into  his  hole,  and  in  a  second 
more  Avas  out  of  sight. 

The  bushes  which  concealed  the  opening  had  scarcely 
sprung  back  to  their  places  Avhen  Kichard  Mortimer 
appeared  in  sight,  moving  down  the  ravine  with  sloAV 
and  cautious  steps,  and  pausing  every  fe\v  feet  to  look 
about  him.  When  he  reached  the  mouth  of  the  cave 
he  backed  into  the  bushes,  and  concealing  himself 
among  them,  stood  for  a  long  time  listening  and  gazing 
up  and  doAvn  the  ravine.  Being  satisfied  at  last  that 
his  movements  Avere  unobserved,  he  dreAv  back  into  the 
opening,  and  hurried  along  a  narrow  passage-Avay,  Avhich 
led  first  to  the  store-room  before  spoken  of,  and  thence 
through  the  hill  to  Reginald  Mortimer's  rancho. 

"  I  am  IIOAV  going  to  make  amends  for  the  cowardice 
I  exhibited  last  night,"  soliloquized  Richard  Mortimer. 
"  I  am  heartily  ashamed  of  Avhat  I  did,  and  I  shall 
never  again  allow  myself  to  be  frightened  from  my  pur- 
pose by  so  shalloAV  an  artifice.  It  couldn't  have  been 
old  Juan's  ghost  I  saAV,  for  there  are  no  such  things. 
Neither  could  it  have  been  the  old  man  himself,  for  he 
Avas  put  out  of  the  Avay  long  years  ago,  and  as  I  Avas 
present  Avhen  the  deed  was  committed,  and  even  assisted 
in  it,  I  knoAV  that  the  Avork  was  thoroughly  done.  The 
apparition  certainly  looked  exactly  like  him,  and  if  it 
comes  in  my  Avay  to-night  I  am  going  to  find  out  Avhat 
it  is.  My  Derringers  are  freshly  loaded,  and  I  Avill  see 
Avhat  impression  the  bullets  in  them  Avill  make  upon 
it." 

The  passage-way  was  as  dark  as  midnight,  but  Richard 
Mortimer,  being  perfectly  familiar  with  all  its  windings, 
Avalked  rapidly  through  it,  and  turning  an  abrupt  bend, 
found  himself  at  the  place  where  the  passage  opened 
into  the  store-room.  Although  he  had  braced  his  nerves, 


194  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

called  all  his  courage  to  his  aid,  and  was  fully  prepared 
to  encounter  something  here,  he  could  not  repress  the 
thrill  of  horror  that  ran  through  him,  or  the  exclama- 
tion of  astonishment  that  escaped  his  lips  the  moment 
he  emerged  from  the  passage-way. 

A  pale  green  light,  whose  source  was  invisible,  and 
through  which  objects  could  but  be  dimly  seen  as 
through  a  mist,  was  streaming  through  the  cellar.  To 
Richard  Mortimer's  excited  imagination  it  seemed  to 
proceed  from  the  bodies  of  two  persons  who  were  slowly 
approaching  him  from  the  opposite  end  of  the  apart- 
ment— one  a  very  aged  man,  and  the  other  a  youth  who 
looked  remarkably  like  White-horse  Fred.  They  were 
walking  side  by  side,  gazing  into  each  other's  faces,  and 
appeared  to  be  conversing  earnestly,  for  their  hands 
were  constantly  employed  in  gesticulating,  and  their  lips 
moved,  although  no  sound  came  forth.  The  light, 
which  gave  a  strange  and  unearthly  appearance  to  their 
features,  seemed  to  move  as  they  moved;  and,  instead  of 
diffusing  itself  about  the  room,  was  confined  to  a  narrow 
space  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  figures.  Richard 
Mortimer  gazed,  and  as  he  gazed  felt  his  courage  oozing 
out  at  the  ends  of  his  fingers.  His  first  impulse  was  to 
turn  and  take  to  his  heels,  but  the  weakness  was  only 
momentary.  Recovering  himself  by  a  strong  effort,  he 
advanced  boldly  into  the  store-room,  but  its  mysterious 
occupants  took  no  notice  of  him.  He  drew  one  of  his 
Derringers  from  his  pocket,  and  leveled  it  at  the  old 
man's  breast. 

"I  have  just  one  bullet  apiece  for  you,  my  friends," 
said  he,  his  voice  trembling  in  spite  of  his  efforts  to 
control  it,  "  and  unless  you  stop  that  pantomime  and 
speak  to  me,  I  will  bring  this  farce  to  an  end  in  a  way 
that  you  probably  have  not  expected." 

He  paused,  but  no  answer  was  returned,  nor  was 
there  the  least  change  in  the  expression  of  the  counte- 
nances of  the  two  figures  to  show  that  his  words  had 
been  heard.  They  continued  to  approach  the  place 
where  he  was  standing,  talking  earnestly  and  gesticu- 
lating. 


THE  SPECTERS  OF  THE  CAVE.  195 

They  wore  now  quite  near  to  him — so  near  that 
llichard  Mortimer  retreated  a  step  or  two,  and  as  he  did 
so  his  finger  pressed  the  trigger.  There  was  a  bright 
flash,  a  stunning  report,  and  when  the  smoke,  which  for 
a  few  seconds  obscured  his  vision,  cleared  away  so  that 
lie  could  see  the  effect  of  his  shot,  he  dropped  his  empty 
weapon  and  staggered  back  as  if  he  were  about  to  fall. 
There  stood  the  old  man  erect  and  unharmed,  still  talk- 
ing with  his  companion,  and  neither  of  them  seemed 
to  have  heard  the  report  of  the  pistol. 

To  draw  the  other  and  discharge  it  was  but  the  work 
of  an  instant,  but  it  had  no  visible  effect  upon  the  ob- 
jects of  his  vengeance,  who  continued  to  advance,  the 
light  keeping  pace  with  them,  and  their  faces  appearing 
to  assume  a  more  ghostly  and  unearthly  look  the  nearer 
they  approached. 

And  now  Richard  Mortimer  discovered  something 
that  had  hitherto  escaped  his  notice — a  tiny  stream  of 
blood  which  was  trickling  down  the  old  man's  temple, 
and  two  holes  in  the  breast  of  his  buckskin  jacket. 
White-horse  Fred  was  as  wet  as  if  he  had  just  come  out 
of  the  lake,  and  the  water  dripped  from  his  garments  as 
he  moved  along.  The  sight  reminded  Richard  Mortimer 
of  one  memorable  night  when  scenes  of  horror  and 
bloodshed  had  been  enacted  at  the  rancho,  and  drove 
away  every  particle  of  his  courage.  With  a  wild  shriek 
of  terror  he  turned  and  fled  like  the  wind. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

JULIAN   MAKES   A   DISCOVEKY. 


TIE,  HERO  rode  away  from  the  cabin  which 
had  been  the  scene  of  his  recent  thrilling 
adventure  in  an  ecstasy  of  bewilderment 
and  alarm.  He  could  not  find  a  satisfactory 
explanation  for  a  single  one  of  the  strange  incidents 
that  had  happened  there — they  were  all  shrouded  in  a 
mystery  which  he  could  not  penetrate.  Of  one  thing, 
however,  he  was  certain,  and  that  was  that  that  gallant 
young  fellow,  whoever  he  was,  who  had  so  narrowly  es- 
caped death  at  Smirker's  hands,  should  not  remain  long 
a  prisoner.  He  would  have  him  out  of  that  cabin  if 
there  was  any  way  by  which  his  release  could  be  effected, 
and  find  out  what  he  meant  by  claiming  to  be  Julian 
Mortimer.  Perhaps  that  "watchful  friend,"  who  had 
addressed  that  note  to  him  and  visited  his  room  the  night 
before  while  he  was  asleep,  could  tell  him  what  ought 
to  be  done  under  the  circumstances,  if  he  could  only 
obtain  an  interview  with  him.  This  he  would  use  his 
best  endeavors  to  accomplish  by  returning  at  once  to 
his  uncle's  rancho,  and  remaining  awake  all  night.  If 
his  mysterious  friend  should  come  into  his  room  before 
morning  he  would  be  sure  to  see  him. 

Julian's  new  horse  was  quite  as  swift  as  Snowdrop, 
and  showed  the  same  willingness  to  go  ahead.  He  flew 
down  the  rocky  path  at  break-neck  speed,  the  bay  quietly 
following.  For  two  hours  he  continued  that  mad  gallop, 
and  at  the  end  of  that  time  suddenly  slackened  his  pace 
to  a  walk.  This  aroused  Julian,  who  straightened  up 
and  looked  about  him,  expecting  to  see  his  uncle's 
rancho  close  before  him;  but  not  a  building  of  any  de- 
scription was  in  sight.  His  horse  was  toiling  up  a  steep 
mountain  path,  which  led  through  a  wilderness  of  trees 


JULIAN  MAKES  A  DISCOVERY.  107 

and  rocks  that  Julian  did  not  remember  to  have  seen 
before.  He  knew  that  he  had  not  passed  that  way  in 
the  morning.  He  had  been  so  completely  absorbed  in 
his  reflections  that  he  had  not  thought  of  directing  his 
steed,  but  trusted  to  the  animal  to  carry  him  back  to 
his  uncle's  raucho.  But  now  he  remembered,  with  a 
thrill  of  terror,  that  he  was  not  riding  Snowdrop,  but  a 
horse  belonging  to  a  robber — one,  too,  which  was  in  the 
habit  of  making  frequent  and  perhaps  daily  journeys 
between  certain  points.  The  animal  seemed  to  know 
where  he  was  going,  but  Julian  did  not.  He  had  not 
seen  the  valley  since  he  left  Smirker's  cabin,  and  that 
proved  that  the  horse,  without  attracting  his  attention, 
had  turned  into  another  path,  and  was  carrying  him 
deeper  into  the  mountains.  But  to  what  place?  To  an- 
other robber  station  beyond  a  doubt.  Julian  shuddered 
at  the  thought. 

To  add  to  his  alarm,  night  was  rapidly  coming  on, 
the  sky  was  overcast  with  clouds  of  inky  blackness,  the 
lightning  was  playing  about  the  mountain  tops,  and  the 
hoarse  mutterings  of  a  storm  could  be  heard  in  the  dis- 
tance. What  was  to  be  done  under  such  circumstances? 
He  could  never  retrace  his  steps  and  find  his  way  back 
to  the  valley  in  the  dark.  He  knew  by  the  experience 
he  had  already  had  with  Snowdrop  that  the  animals 
White-horse  Fred  rode,  having  become  accustomed  to  a 
particular  line  of  duty,  objected  to  having  their  usual 
manner  of  proceeding  interrupted;  and  if  the  nag  on 
which  he  was  now  mounted  should  show  the  same  dis- 
inclination to  turn  back  that  Snowdrop  had  exhibited 
to  leave  Smirker's  cabin,  what  could  he  do?  He  would 
be  obliged  to  depend  entirely  on  himself,  and  he  would 
become  hopelessly  bewildered  before  he  had  gone  a  hun- 
dred yards.  To  camp  beside  the  path  and  wait  for  day- 
light would  be  equally  hazardous,  for  the  crash  of  fallen 
timbers  in  the  distance  told  him  that  the  swiftly  ap- 
proaching storm  was  sweeping  every  movable  thing  be- 
fore it.  He  must  go  on — he  had  no  alternative. 

"  There's  some  consolation  in  knowing  that  I  can't 
get  into  a  much  worse  scrape  than  that  which  I  have 


198  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

just  got  out  of,"  thought  Julian.  "If  I  don't  succeed 
in  passing  myself  off  as  White-horse  Fred,  I  will  reveal 
myself  and  trust  to  luck.  In  that  event  the  robbers  will 
only  make  a  prisoner  of  me,  for  I  am  worth  too  much 
to  them  to  be  harmed.  Smirker  said  so,  although  I 
haven't  the  least  idea  what  he  meant  by  it." 

Having  settled  this  point,  Julian  put  spurs  to  his 
horse,  which,  having  by  this  time  gained  the  summit  of 
the  hill,  set  off  at  the  top  of  his  speed.  The  gloom  of  night 
settled  rapidly  over  the  mountains,  growing  more  and 
more  intense  every  instant,  and  finally  even  the  nearest 
objects  were  shut  out  from  his  view,  save  when  the  oc- 
casional flashes  of  lightning  burst  from  the  thick  black- 
ness overhead.  To  increase  his  uneasiness,  he  became 
aware  that  the  path  over  which  he  was  being  carried 
with  all  the  speed  his  horse  could  command  ran  along 
the  brink  of  a  deep  precipice.  Trusting  entirely  to  the 
white  nag,  and  leaving  the  bay  to  take  care  of  himself, 
Julian  clung  with  a  death-grip  to  the  horn  of  his  sad- 
dle, closing  hi?  °yes  when  the  lightning  illuminated  the 
scene,  that  he  might  not  see  the  dangers  before  him, 
and  then  when  darkness  once  more  settled  over  the 
mountains  holding  his  breath  in  suspense,  momentarily 
expecting  to  find  himself  whirling  headlong  to  destruc- 
tion. But  the  sure-footed  animal,  having  carried  the 
real  White-horse  Fred  along  that  same  chasm  on  many 
a  night  like  this,  was  too  familiar  with  the  way  to  run 
into  any  dangers. 

Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  storm,  a  roar  like  that  of 
a  thousand  express  trains  filling  the  canyon  behind  him, 
the  lightning  flashing  incessantly,  the  thunder  booming 
and  echoing  among  the  cliffs  like  rapid  discharges  of 
heavy  artillery,  the  crash  of  falling  timber  sounding 
louder  and  plainer  every  instant,  and  faster  and  faster  flew 
the  white  horse  with  his  terrified  rider.  He  sped  along 
like  a  bird  on  the  wing,  never  once  abating  his  speed  even 
in  the  roughest  and  most  difficult  places,  and  finally,  to 
Julian's  immense  relief,  carried  him  into  a  thickly 
wooded  ravine,  and  after  making  several  abrupt  turns 
and  plunging  through  a  dense  thicket  of  bushes,  came 


JULIAN  MAKES  A  DISCOVERY.  100 

to  a  sudden  halt.  On  the  instant  the  boy  placed  his 
hand  to  his  mouth  and  gave  a  perfect  imitation  of 
AVhite-horse  Fred's  whistle. 

"Ay!  ay!  "came  the  response  through  the  darkness, 
the  voice  sounding  close  at  hand. 

"Whew!"  panted  Julian,  drawing  his  handkerchief 
across  his  dripping  forehead.  "Wasn't  it  lucky  that  I 
had  my  wits  about  me?  I  heard  a  window  close,  and  a 
bolt  rattle  as  it  was  pushed  into  its  socket;  and  that 
proves  that  some  one  heard  my  approach  and  was  on 
the  lookout.  If  I  hadn't  given  the  signal  just  as  I  did 
I  might  have  been  shot.  Wouldn't  I  give  something  to 
know  what  I  have  got  to  go  through  with  now?" 

Julian  could  not  see  even  the  faintest  outline  of  a 
house  before  him,  but  nevertheless  there  was  one  there. 
The  sound  of  voices  and  the  tramping  of  heavy  feet  on 
a  stone  floor  came  faintly  to  his  ears,  followed  by  the 
grating  of  bolts  and  locks;  and  presently  a  door  swung 
open  close  at  his  side — so  close  that  if  he  bad  thrust  out 
his  hand  he  could  have  touched  it — a  flood  of  light 
streamed  out  into  the  darkness,  and  a  man  with  a  lan- 
tern appeared  on  the  threshold.  Julian's  horse  at  once 
moved  forward,  carrying  his  rider  into  a  stable  similar 
to  the  one  adjoining  Smirker's  cabin,  and  the  bay  fol- 
lowed closely  at  his  heels.  Scarcely  had  they  reached 
the  shelter  of  the  friendly  roof  when  the  storm  burst 
forth  in  all  its  fury. 

Julian  rolled  off  his  horse  rather  than  dismounted, 
and  the  hostler,  after  closing  and  fastening  the  door, 
held  up  his  lantern  and  peered  sharply  into  his  face. 

"Why,  boy!"  he  exclaimed  in  great  amazement. 

"  It  is  all  up  with  me  now,"  thought  Julian.  "  I  am 
discovered  at  last." 

"Well,  sir!"  continued  the  man,  after  a  pause.  "I 
have  seen  something  to-night  I  never  expected  to  see  in 
my  life — White-horse  Fred  frightened.", 

"  I  guess  you  would  be  frightened  if  you  were  in  my 
place,"  returned  Julian,  greatly  relieved. 

"  The  soldiers  haven't  been  after  you,  have  they?" 

The  boy  replied  in  the  negative. 


200  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

"Oh,  it's  the  storm,  then.  It's  awful,  that's  a  fact. 
I  never  heaid  such  thunder  or  such  a  roaring  of  wind. 
lrou  got  here  just  in  time,  didn't  you?  Listen  to  that 
rain.  The  water  in  the  gullies  will  be  breast  high  to  a 
horse  in  five  minutes.  Where  did  this  fellow  come 
from?"  asked  the  hostler,  leading  the  bay  into  one  of 
the  stalls. 

"From  Fort  Stoughton.  He  was  stolen  from  the 
major." 

"Is  this  all  you've  got?  Haven't  you  brought  any 
dust  or  nuggets?" 

"No.     That  was  all  Smirker  had  to  give  me." 

"  The  fellows  up  there  are  getting  lazy.  They  never 
send  anything  but  horses  lately.  What  do  you  know 
that  is  interesting  or  exciting?" 

"  Nothing.  Smirker  told  me  to  tell  you  that  the  cap- 
tain's cub  had  got  back." 

"  Glory!"  exclaimed  the  man,  looking  over  his  shoul- 
der at  Julian,  and  bringing  his  horny  palms  together 
with  a  noise  like  the  report  of  a  pistol. 

"  I  don't  know  what  he  meant  by  it,"  added  Julian, 
hoping  that  the  man  would  finish  the  story  Smirker  had 
been  relating  to  him  when  White-horse  Fred  arrived. 

"  Of  course  you  don't,  but  I  do;  and  it  is  the  best 
piece  of  news  I  ever  heard." 

"Why  is  it?" 

"  That  is  a  secret  known  only  to  a  few  of  us  whom 
the  captain  is  willing  to  trust.  But,  of  course,  as  you 
are  a  faithful  member  of  the  band,  you  will  one  day 
share  in  the  benefits  of  it.  I'd  like  to  tell  you,  but  I'm 
sworn  to  tell  nobody.  Your  supper  is  waiting." 

That  was  something  Julian  was  glad  to  hear.  Uncle 
Reginald  had  kept  him  in  such  a  state  of  excitement 
that  morning  that  he  had  eaten  very  little  breakfast, 
and  he  was  as  hungry  as  a  wolf.  Fortunately  there  was 
but  one  door  leading  out  of  the  stable  beside  the  one  at 
which  he  hai  come  in,  and  he  knew  which  way  to  go  to 
find  the  living  room  of  the  cabin. 

Being  satisfied  now  that  he  could  pass  himself  off  any- 
where for  White-horse  Fred,  he  boldly  pushed  open  the 


JULIAN  MAKES  A  DISCOVERY.  201 

door  and  found  himself  in  the  presence  of  two  rough- 
looking  men,  who  were  stretched  out  on  benches,  with 
their  saddles  under  their  heads  for  pillows. 

At  one  end  of  the  room  was  a  table,  made  of  unplaned 
boards,  upon  which  was  a  goodly  supply  of  corn-bread 
and  bacon,  a  tin  plate  with  a  fork  beside  it,  and  a  quart 
cup,  which  a  villainous-looking  Mexican,  who  entered 
from  another  door  just  as  Julian  came  in  from  the  sta- 
ble, was  filling  with  very  black-looking  coffee.  The  men 
on  the  benches  greeted  him  with  rude  cordiality,  the 
Mexican  bowed  to  him,  and  Julian,  assuming  an  air  of 
carelessness  and  indifference  that  he  was  very  far  from 
feeling,  threw  his  sombrero  into  one  comer  of  the  room 
and  seated  himself  at  the  table. 

The  nervousness  and  timidity  he  felt  on  first  entering 
the  room  very  soon  began  to  wear  away.  The  men, 
after  making  some  coarse  jests  concerning  his  new 
clothes,  entered  into  a  lively  conversation  with  him,  and 
asked  a  multitude  of  questions  about  persons  and  places 
which  Julian  had  never  seen  or  heard  of.  From  some 
remarks  they  let  fall  he  found  out  why  they  were  so  in- 
quisitive. They  were  obliged  to  remain  in  that  cabin 
month  in  and  month  out,  scarcely  ever  stirring  beyond 
the  threshold;  they  never  saw  any  new  faces  except 
those  of  the  captain  and  the  two  agents  who  brought 
the  stolen  property  there  and  took  it  away  again;  and 
they  knew  nothing  of  what  Avas  going  on  in  the  outside 
world  except  what  their  visitors  told  them.  Julian 
gratified  their  curiosity  by  relating  a  very  few  things 
that  had  happened  that  day  in  Smirker's  cabin,  and  a 
good  many  things  that  had  not  happened.  He  repeated 
every  word  that  had  been  told  him  about  the  "captain's 
cub,"  in  the  hope  that  the  men  would  tell  him  the  rest 
of  the  story,  but  in  this  he  was  disappointed.  They 
expressed  unbounded  delight  at  the  intelligence,  but 
said,  somewhat  fiercely,  that  Smirker  ought  to  have  held 
his  tongue. 

But  little  was  said  after  this.  The  men  having  lis- 
tened to  all  Julian  had  to  tell  them,  rearranged  their 
blankets  and  prepared  to  go  to  sleep;  and  the  boy,  being 


202  JULIAN'  MORTIMER. 

left  to  himself,  gave  his  whole  attention  to  the  corn- 
bread  and  bacon.  When  he  finished  his  supper  and 
arose  from  the  table,  the  robbers  were  both  snoring 
lustily. 

"AVhat's  the  next  thing  011  the  programme,  I  won- 
der?" soliloquized  Julian,  who,  not  knowing  what  else 
to  do,  walked  about  the  room  looking  at  the  weapons 
which  hung  upon  the  wall.  "I  am  afraid  to  make  a 
move  in  any  direction  for  fear  I  shall  act  so  unlike 
White-horse  Fred  that  somebody  will  suspect  me.  I'll 
stroll  around  a  little  and  see  what  sort  of  a  place  I  have 
got  into.'" 

The  Mexican  who  had  served  up  the  supper  came  in 
at  this  moment  to  clear  away  the  dishes,  and  when  he 
went  out  again,  Julian  walked  to  the  door  through 
which  he  disappeared,  and  stood  there  looking  about 
him,  and  wondering  if  it  would  be  safe  to  venture  be- 
yond it.  It  led  into  a  long,  narrow  hall,  at  the  oppo- 
site end  of  which  was  a  second  door  that  communicated 
with  the  kitchen.  This  door  was  open,  and  the  sounds 
that  issued  from  the  room  told  him  that  the  Mexican 
was  engaged  in  washing  the  supper  dishes. 

After  a  moment's  pause  Julian  kept  slowly  on,  in- 
tending to  take  a  peep  into  the  kitchen;  but  when  he 
had  gone  about  half-way  through  the  hall,  he  saw  an- 
other door  at  his  left  hand,  which  he  had  not  before 
noticed.  It  was  open,  and  led  into  a  room  which  pre- 
sented a  great  contrast  to  the  one  Julian  had  just 
left. 

It  was  nicely  furnished,  carpeted,  provided  with  a 
comfortable  bed,  and  there  were  ornaments  on  the  man- 
tel over  the  fire-place,  and  pictures  hanging  upon  the 
walls.  In  the  middle  of  the  floor  was  a  table  with  the 
remains  of  a  supper  upon  it,  and  beside  it  sat  a  tall, 
military-looking  gentleman  dressed  in  a  faded  suit  of 
black.  He  sat  with  his  head  resting  upon  his  hand, 
and  his  eyes  fastened  upon  the  floor;  and  there  was 
something  in  his  face,  which  was  turned  partly  toward 
him,  that  attracted  the  boy's  attention  and  excited  his 
sympathy  at  once.  He  knew  instinctively  that  the  man 


204  /  ULIA  N  MOR  TIMER. 

was  in  trouble.     A  second  glance  showed  him  that  he 
was  a  prisoner — that  he  was  in  double  irons. 

Who  was  he,  and  what  had  he  done  to  incur  the  dis- 
pleasure of  the  robbers  that  they  should  keep  him  so 
closely  confined?  If  Julian  had  been  able  to  answer 
this  question,,  and  had  known  the  full  value  of  the  dis- 
covery he  had  just  made,  he  would  have  been  astonished 
and  excited  beyond  measure., 


CIIAPTEE   XXIV. 

PEDEO    MAKES   ANOTHER. 

illE  PRISONER  raised  his  head  with  aweary, 
languid  air  when  Julian  stopped  before  his 
door,  but  no  sooner  did  his  eyes  rest  full  upon 
the  boy  than  his  whole  appearance  changed 
as  if  by  magic.  The  look  of  utter  dejection  faded 
from  his  face,  and  was  succeeded  by  an  expression  in 
which  excitement  and  hope  were  strangely  blended. 
Placing  his  finger  upon  his  lips  with  a  warning  gesture, 
he  arose  to  his  feet,  and  then  Julian  saw  that  he  was 
even  more  securely  confined  than  he  had  supposed,  be- 
ing chained  to  the  floor. 

The  prisoner,  who  was  considerably  past  the  prime  of 
life,  was  a  man  of  very  commanding  appearance,  and  in 
his  youthful  days  must  have  been  a  model  of  strength 
and  agility;  but  now  his  frame  was  emaciated  to  the  last 
degree,  his  cheeks  were  pale  and  sunken,  and  his  eyes, 
which  were  fastened  eagerly  upon  the  boy,  had  a  wild, 
defiant  look  in  them. 

As  he  arose  slowly  and  tremblingly  to  his  feet,  he 
beckoned  to  Julian  impatiently,  almost  fiercely,  to  enter 
the  room,  at  the  same  time  drawing  a  letter  from  his 
pocket  and  tossing  it  toward  him.  It  fell  upon  the  car- 
pet just  inside  the  door,  and  Julian,  filled  with  wonder, 
stepped  forward  and  picked  it  up.  An  instant  after- 
ward he  would  have  given  everything  he  ever  hoped  to 
possess  if  he  could  have  recalled  the  action. 

The  rattling  of  dishes  in  the  kitchen  suddenly  ceased, 
and  the  Mexican  cook  came  into  the  hall,  humming  a 
tune  and  snapping  his  fingers  as  if  he  felt  at  peace  with 
himself  and  all  the  world,  and  Julian  knew,  as  well  as 
if  it  had  been  told  him,  that  he  was  coming  into  that 
room. 


206  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

The  anxiety  and  alarm  he  exhibited  were  fully  shared 
by  the  prisoner,  whose  face  was  the  color  of  ashes.  He 
could  not  have  been  more  fully  alive  to  the  dangers  of 
the  boy's  situation  if  he  had  been  in  the  same  peril 
himself.  After  looking  all  around  the  room,  searching 
for  some  avenue  of  escape  or  place  of  concealment,  he 
pointed  with  a  quick  movement  behind  the  door,  and 
sinking  back  into  his  chair  rested  his  head  upon  his 
hand.  Julian  understood  the  gesture  and  was  quick  to 
obey  it.  He  dodged  behind  the  door  like  a  flash  of 
light,  and  a  moment  later  the  Mexican  came  into  the 
room. 

"Have  you  finished  your  supper?"  he  demanded 
roughly. 

"  No,"  replied  the  prisoner.  "  Come  in  again  in  a 
few  minutes." 

"  Now,  I  want  you  to  hurry  up;  do  you  understand 
that?  I  am  not  going  to  wait  all  night  for  those 
dishes." 

The  Mexican  went  out  again  and  stood  looking  up 
and  down  the  hall.  Once  he  started  toward  the  living- 
room,  and  the  movement  gave  Julian  new  cause  for 
alarm.  What  if  he  should  go  in  there  and  discover  his 
absence?  What  would  the  robbers  do  to  him  if  they 
should  find  him  concealed  in  the  room  with  their  pris- 
oner? The  fears  these  questions  conjured  up  were 
speedily  set  at  rest,  however,  for  the  man  turned  about 
and  went  into  the  kitchen  again;  and  when  the  rattling 
of  the  dishes  told  Julian  that  he  had  resumed  his  work, 
he  thrust  the  letter  into  his  pocket,  slipped  from  behind 
the  door,  and  with  noiseless  steps  retraced  his  way  to 
the  living-room.  He  arrived  there  just  in  time  to 
escape  danger  from  a  new  source,  for  the  door  of  the 
stable  opened  and  the  hostler  entered.  He  found  the 
boy  seated  beside  the  table,  with  his  arms  folded  and 
his  head  resting  upon  them.  He  had  assumed  this  posi- 
tion in  order  to  conceal  his  face,  which  he  knew  was  as 
pale  as  that  of  the  dead. 

"Wake  up  here,  Fred!"  cried  the  man,  striking  Ju- 
lian on  the  shoulder  with  his  open  hand,  "  You've  no 


PEDRO  MAKES  ANOTHER.  207 

business  to  go  to  sleep.  You  know  it's  against  orders 
for  anybody  except  us  four  fellows  to  stay  in  this  rancho 
all  night.  The  storm  is  over,  and  you  can  start  back 
now." 

"Start  back!"  thought  Julian,  raising  his  head  and 
nabbing  his  eyes  as  if  he  were  very  sleepy.  "  Must  I 
ride  along  that  dreadful  chasm  again  to-night?  Where 
will  that  horse  take  me?  Back  to  Smirker's,  prob- 
ably." 

"  You  will  have  a  pleasanter  time  going  than  you  did 
coming/'  continued  the  hostler.  "  The  moon  is  shin- 
ing brightly." 

"Any  messages?"  asked  Julian. 

"  None  that  I  think  of.     Be  down  again  to-morrow?" 

The  boy,  replying  in  the  affirmative,  accompanied  the 
hostler  to  the  stable,  and  in  a  few  minutes  more  heard 
the  heavy  door  locked  behind  him,  and  was  flying  along 
the  zigzag  path  that  led  from  the  rancho  to  the  chasm. 

The  ride  proved  to  be  much  more  to  his  liking  than 
the  one  he  had  taken  a  few  hours  before.  The  moon 
lighted  up  every  object  within  the  range  of  his  vision, 
and  he  had  a  fair  view  of  the  dangers  through  which 
he  had  passed.  The  horse  carried  him  along  the  chasm 
in  safety,  and  when  that  was  passed  Julian  threw  the 
reins  loose  on  the  animal's  neck  and  gave  himself  up  to 
his  reflections.  Of  course  the  prisoner  occupied  all  his 
thoughts.  He  pulled  the  letter  from  his  pocket  and 
looked  at  it  on  all  sides.  There  was  something  written 
on  it — probably  the  address  of  the  person  to  whom  it 
was  to  be  delivered;  but  Julian,  with  the  aid  of  no  bet- 
ter light  than  that  afforded  by  the  moon,  could  not 
make  it  out.  He  had  two  prisoners  to  assist  now,  he 
told  himself — Smirker's  captive  and  the  old  gentleman 
Avlio  had  given  him  the  letter.  The  former,  as  we 
know,  was  no  longer  in  need  of  help;  but  the  other 
was,  and  in  Julian  he  had  a  friend  worth  having.  He 
hud  others,  too,  shrewd,  active,  daring  men,  who  had 
labored  unceasingly  for  years  to  discover  his  where- 
abouts and  effect  his  release,  but  without  the  least  hope 
of  success.  Silas  lioper  would  have  given  the  best 
years  of  his  life  to  have  known  what  Julian  knew. 


208  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

It  seemed  to  our  hero  that  the  ride  would  never  come 
to  an  end.  He  made  no  attempt  to  guide  his  horse,  but 
kept  a  good  lookout  on  both  sides  in  the  hope  of  seeing 
some  familiar  landmark.  He  did  not  intend  to  be  car- 
ried back  to  Smirker's  cabin  if  he  could  prevent  it.  An 
hour  later  he  emerged  from  a  deep  ravine  into  a  broad, 
level  valley,  and  then  he  knew  where  he  was.  His 
horse  showed  a  desire  to  carry  him  up  a  narrow  path 
which  led  to  a  high  hill  beyond;  but  Julian  insisted  on 
having  his  own  way,  and  by  the  help  of  his  spurs  soon 
induced  the  animal  to  yield  to  his  guidance.  The  five 
miles  that  lay  between  him  and  his  uncle's  rancho  were 
quickly  accomplished,  and  when  Julian  drew  rein  in 
front  of  the  gate  he  felt  as  if  a  mountain  had  suddenly 
been  removed  from  his  shoulders. 

"I  never  expected  to  see  this  place  again/'  thought 
he,  as  he  pounded  upon  the  gate  with  the  handle  of  his 
hunting-knife.  "  Uncle  Eeginald  told  me  this  morn- 
ing that  he  wanted  me  to  feel  that  I  had  a  right  to  go 
and  come  when  I  pleased,  and  I  guess  he  will  think  I 
haven't  been  slow  to  take  advantage  of  his  permission. 
It  must  be  long  after  midnight,  but  I  can't  go  to  sleep, 
for  I  don't  want  to  miss  seeing  that  watchful  friend  of 
mine,  if  he  comes  about." 

The  furious  blows  Julian  showered  upon  the  gate 
brought  the  dogs  out  in  full  chorus,  and  in  a  few  min- 
utes Pedro  also  appeared  with  his  lantern.  He  must 
have  known  who  it  was  demanding  admittance,  for  he 
did  not  stop  to  look  through  the  wicket,  but  opened  the 
gate  at  once,  and  Julian  rode  in. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  be  obliged  to  disturb  you  at  this  hour," 
said  the  boy,  as  he  dismounted  in  front  of  the  door  of 
the  rancho,  "but  I  couldn't  help  it." 

"  I  was  up  and  waiting  for  you,"  was  the  reply. 
"Your  uncle  has  given  me  orders  to  hold  myself  in 
readiness  to  attend  to  you  at  any  hour  of  the  day  or 
night;  so  you  see — well — I — Carrajo!" 

The  Mexican,  wno  had  taken  Julian's  bridle  from  his 
hand,  ceased  speaking  very  suddenly,  raised  his  lantern, 
and  after  surveying  the  horse  all  over,  opened  his  eyes 


PEDRO  MAKES  ANOTHER.       .  209 

to  their  widest  extent,  and  broke  out  into  a  volley  of 
Spanish  oaths  and  ejaculations  indicative  of  the  greatest 
astonishment.  He  had  made  an  alarming  discovery. 

"  Well,  what  is  it?"  asked  Julian.  "  Do  you  see  any- 
thing strange  ?" 

' '  No, "  answered  the  man  hastily.  * '  Take  this  lantern 
to  light  you  to  your  room,  and  I  will  put  your  horse  in 
the  stable." 

"  Is  anything  new  going  to  happen,  I  wonder?" 
thought  Julian,  as  he  took  the  proffered  lantern  and 
made  his  way  along  the  hall  to  the  sleeping  apartment. 
"Pedro  has  found  something  to  surprise  him,  and  I 
can't  imagine  what  it  can  be.  I  guess  Uncle  Reginald 
would  be  surprised,  too,  if  he  knew  where  I  have  been 
and  what  I  have  seen  since  he  last  saw  me." 

Never  before  had  a  room  looked  so  cozy  and  comfort- 
able, or  a  bed  so  inviting,  as  Julian's  did  that  night. 
He  was  almost  exhausted  by  his  long  ride  and  the  ex- 
citement through  which  he  had  passed,  but  he  had  a 
matter  of  importance  before  him,  and  he  could  not 
think  of  retiring.  His  first  move  was  to  light  the 
candle  that  stood  on  the  table  and  extinguish  the  lantern, 
and  his  second  to  draw  his  easy-chair  beside  the  table 
and  take  the  mysterious  letter  from  his  pocket.  It  was 
soiled  and  crumpled,  and  Julian  thought  it  must  have 
been  written  a  long  time,  and  that  the  gentleman  had 
carried  it  constantly  about  his  person,  waiting  for  an 
opportunity  to  give  it  to  some  one.  The  words  written 
on  the  outside  were: 

"To  any  good  Christian  into  whose  hands  this  letter 
may  come." 

"  That  means  me/'  thought  the  boy.  "  That  poor 
gentleman  is  in  great  trouble,  I  know,  and  I  am  Christ- 
ian enough  to  help  him  out  of  it  if  I  can." 

He  opened  the  letter,  little  dreaming  what  a  surprise 
was  in  store  for  him,  and  looked  at  the  signature  to  see 
who  the  writer  was.  He  looked,  and  the  blood  went 
rushing  back  upon  his  heart,  leaving  his  face  ghastly 


J  ULIA  N  MOR  T1MKR. 

pale.     Ho  rubbed  his  eyes,  held  the  letter  closer  to  the 
candle,  and  slowly  read  aloud  the  words: 

"  Yours,  in  dire  distress,       SAMUEL  MORTIMEE, 
"Late  Major  of  the  Army  of  the  United  States." 

"It  is  from  my  father!"  gasped  Julian,  sinking  help- 
lessly back  into  his  chair. 

"  Is  it?  Then  give  it  to  me,"  said  a  stern  voice  close 
at  his  elbow. 

A  hand  suddenly  appeared  from  behind  his  chair,  and 
clutching  the  letter,  attempted  to  snatch  it  from  his 
grasp,  but  the  boy's  fingers  closed  upon  it  with  a  most 
determined  grip.  Thinking  of  the  emigrant,  he  started 
up  with  a  cry  of  alarm  to  find  himself  confronted  by 
Uncle  Reginald,  whose  face  was  as  black  as  a  thunder- 
cloud. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

HOW     IT     KKSULTEI). 

HEN  PEDRO  took  charge  of  Julian's  horse  he 
did  not  lead  him  directly  to  the  stable,  but  to 
the  back  part  of  the  house,  where  he  left  him 
until  ho  could  run  into  the  kitchen  and  pro- 
cure another  lantern.  When  became  out  again  he  made 
a  thorough  examination  of  the  animal,  and  having  at 
last  satisfied  himself  that  he  made  no  mistake,  he  run 
into  the  house  and  pounded  loudly  upon  the  door  of 
Uncle  Reginald's  bed-room.  The  summons  quickly 
brought  that  gentleman  to  his  feet,  and  when  the 
numerous  bolts  and  locks  had  been  undone,  Pedro 
pushed  open  the  door  and  entered  without  ceremony. 
The  excitement  and  alarm  depicted  upon  his  features 
must  have  been  contagious,  for  no  sooner  did  Mr. 
Mortimer  glance  at  his  face  than  his  own  assumed  a 
very  anxious  look. 

"  Did  Julian  ride  Snowdrop  away  this  morning,  or  did 
I  dream  it?"  asked  Pedro,  before  he  was  fairly  inside  the 
door. 

"  You  did  not  dream  it,"  was  the  reply.  "lie  did. 
Why  do  you  ask  the  question?" 

"  Because  here's  the  very  mischief  to  pay.  I  told  you 
just  how  it  would  be  if  you  turned  that  boy  loose  to  run 
about  the  country  like  u  wild  colt.  I  shouldn't  bo  sur- 
prised if  your  little  game  was  brought  to  an  end  in  less 
than  twenty-four  hours." 

"  What  do  you  mean?"  cried  Uncle  Reginald  in  alarm. 
"Speak  out  plainly." 

"I  mean  that  if  Julian  rode  Snowdrop  away  he  has 
brought  Bob  back — that's  what  I  mean." 

Pedro's   employer  was   utterly    confounded   by    this 


212  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

intelligence.  His  under  jaw  dropped  down,  and  lie 
looked  at  his  companion  without  saying  a  word. 

"It  is  the  truth?"  continued  the  Mexican.  "Now 
where  did  he  leave  Snowdrop,  and  where  did  he  get 
Bob?  Either  at  Smirker's  or  at  the  other  place;  and  if 
he  has  been  there,  it  proves  something." 

"  It  does,  indeed,"  cried  Eeginald  Mortimer,  turning 
white  to  the  lips.  "  It  proves  that  some  of  my  trusted 
men  have  turned  against  me ;  for  he  could  never  have 
gained  admittance  to  either  place  except  through 
treachery.  I  must  talk  to  him,  and  see  if  ha  has  learned 
anything  he  ought  not  to  know." 

Uncle  Eeginald  threw  on  his  clothes  with  all  possible 
haste,  and  hurried  along  the  hall  to  Julian's  room.  The 
door  opened  when  he  turned  the  knob,  and  entering 
without  attracting  the  boy's  attention,  he  found  him  in 
the  act  of  reading  a  letter.  When  Uncle  Keginald  saw 
the  letter  all  his  worst  suspicions  were  confirmed.  He 
knew  where  Julian  had  been,  and  he  knew,  too,  by 
whom  the  missive  had  been  written,  and  what  it  con- 
tained. Approaching  the  boy's  chair  with  a  cat-like 
tread,  he  leaned  over  his  shoulder  and  made  an  attempt 
to  take  the  paper  out  of  his  hand;  but  Julian  detected 
the  move  in  time  to  defeat  it.  He  sprung  to  his  feet, 
and  for  a  moment  the  two  stood  holding  the  letter  be- 
tween them,  and  glaring  at  one  another  like  wild  beasts 
at  bay.  Uncle  Reginald  was  astonished  at  the  look  of 
defiance  and  determination  he  saw  in  the  eyes  that  were 
fastened  upon  him.  It  taught  him  something  of  the 
spirit  of  the  youth  with  whom  he  had  to  deal. 

"  Julian,"  said  he,  in  a  tone  of  voice  which  he  intended 
should  frighten  the  boy  into  obedience  to  his  commands, 
"  I  have  a  good  deal  to  say  to  you;  but,  in  the  first  place, 
give  me  that  letter." 

"  I  would  as  readily  give  you  my  life,"  was  the  prompt 
reply. 

"  Let  go,  I  tell  you,"  said  Uncle  Reginald,  in  a  still 
sterner  voice,  making  a  vain  effort  to  unclasp  the  sinewy 
fingers  that  were  closed  upon  the  letter. 

"  Let  go  yourself.  It  is  from  my  father.  I  have 
more  right  tn  it  than  you  have,  and  I  will  not  let  go. 


HO  W  IT  RESUL  TED.  213 

<e  I  am  your  guardian,  Julian,  and  have  the  right  to 
control  you,  as  you  will  quickly  learn  to  your  cost,  if  you 
do  not  obey  me." 

"  I  don't  care  if  you  are  the  King  of  the  Sandwich 
Islands,  you  shan't  have  this  letter:  I  don't  believe  you 
are  my  guardian.  You  have  done  nothing  but  tell  me 
one  falsehood  after  another  ever  since  I  have  been  here. 
You  said  my  father  was  dead,  and  he  isn't.  He  is  alive, 
and  I  have  seen  him — seen  him,  too,  in  prison  and 
chained  to  the  floor.  You  say  you  are  my  uncle,  and 
you  are  not.  You  have  no  more  right  to  the  name  you 
bear  than  your  Mexican  servant  has — not  a  bit." 

"Who  told  you  all  this?"  asked  Uncle  Eeginald, 
making  a  strong  effort  to  keep  back  the  tempest  of  pas- 
sion which  was  almost  ready  to  break  forth. 

"Your  man  Smirker.  1  am  going  to  have  him 
arrested  as  soon  as  I  can  go  to  the  fort.  He  killed  a 
miner  and  stole  his  money;  he  told  me  so." 

"He  told  you  so!"  repeated  Reginald  Mortimer. 

"  Yes.  He  mistook  me  for  a  rascally  accomplice  of 
his— White-horse  Fred." 

"  Did  Smirker  introduce  you  into  Hale's  rancho — I 
mean  the  place  where  you  saw  this  prisoner?" 

"No.  The  horse  he  gave  me  in  exchange  for  mine 
introduced  me  there." 

"  Well,  go  on.     What  else  do  you  know?" 

"  I  know  you  had  better  let  go  this  letter  instantly ; 
for  if  you  don't " 

Julian  finished  the  sentence  by  placing  his  hand  upon 
the  butt  of  his  revolver;  but  before  he  could  draw  it 
from  his  belt  Eeginald  Mortimer  released  his  hold  upon 
the  letter,  and  bounding  forward,  seized  the  boy  by  the 
throat,  and  attempted  to  throw  him  to  the  floor. 

Julian  was  neither  surprised  nor  frightened.  He 
retained  his  presence  of  mind.  His  first  thought  was 
not  of  defense  but  of  the  letter;  and  having  secured  that 
by  thrusting  it  into  his  bosom  he  was  ready  for  the 
struggle.  How  the  contest  would  have  ended  if  he  had 
been  left  to  himself  it  is  hard  to  tell;  but  help  was  close 
at  hand.  The  hangings  at  the  foot  of  the  bed  were 


214  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

thrust  cautiously  aside,  and  a  pair  of  eyes  appeared  and 
looked  into  the  room.  They  watched  the  combatants  a 
moment  and  then  disappeared,  and  shortly  afterward 
the  hangings  were  again  raised  and  three  figures  sprung 
from  behind  them.  The  foremost  was  Silas  Roper; 
close  at  his  heels  followed  the  strange  horseman  whom 
Julian  had  met  at  Smirk er's  cabin;  and  the  rear  was 
brought  up  by  the  feeble  old  man,  who,  by  simply 
walking  across  the  cellar  the  night  before,  had  saved 
our  hero  from  being  carried  away  captive  by  Richard 
Mortimer. 

At  this  moment  the  door  through  which  Uncle  Reg- 
inald had  entered  was  cautiously  opened,  and  another 
head  was  thrust  into  the  room.  It  was  the  head  of 
Pedro,  the  Mexican,  who,  after  just  one  glance  at  what 
was  going  on  inside  the  apartment,  drew  back  out  of 
sight. 

"  The  jig  is  danced  at  last,"  said  he  to  himself,  as  he 
ran  along  the  hall,  "  and  those  of  us  who  are  found  in 
these  parts  in  the  morning  will  be  called  upon  to  settle 
with  the  fiddler.  It  is  nothing  more  than  I  expected, 
but  I  know  how  to  block  this  little  game." 

Pedro  went  straight  to  the  stable,  led  out  the  horse 
Julian  had  brought  there  a  short  time  before,  and 
springing  upon  his  back,  rode  off  toward  the  mount- 
ains. 

Silas  and  his  friends  had  come  into  that  room  on 
business,  and  their  actions  indicated  that  they  were  dis- 
posed to  waste  no  time  in  carrying  it  out.  The  trapper 
walked  straight  up  to  Reginald  Mortimer,  and  seizing 
him  by  the  collar  and  tearing  his  hand  from  the  boy's 
throat,  threw  him  at  full  length  on  the  floor.  Julian 
staggered  to  his  feet  as  soon  as  he  was  relieved  of  the 
weight  of  his  antagonist,  to  find  a  pair  of  strong  arms 
clasped  about  his  neck,  and  to  hear  himself  addressed 
in  terms  of  endearment,  to  which  he  listened  like  one 
in  a  dream.  Then  lie  felt  himself  forced  into  a  chair, 
and  knew  that  Silas  came  up  and  shook  hands  with 
him,  and  that  he  was  followed  by  the  feeble  old  man, 
who  said  something  that  was  doubtless  intended  for  a 


HO  IV  IT  RESUL  TED.  215 

welcome;  but  Julian's  mind  was  in  such  a  whirl  of 
excitement  that  he  could  not  understand  a  word  he 
uttered. 

"^What's  the  matter  with  you,  anyhow?"  asked 
White-horse  Fred,  bringing  his  hand  down  upon  Ju- 
lian's shoulder  with  a  force  that  fairly  made  the 
boy's  teeth  rattle.  "Can't  you  say  you  are  glad  to 
see  me,  or  are  you  above  owning  a  brother  who  belongs 
to  a  band  of  robbers?" 

"  Let  me  collect  my  thoughts  a  little,  and  then  I  will 
talk  to  you,"  replied  Julian.  "I  can't  quite  under- 
stand all  this." 

"And  there's  another  as  much  in  the  dark  as  you 
are,"  said  Fred, pointing  to  Reginald  Mortimer.  "You 
perhaps  imagine  you  are  dreaming,  and  I  know  he 
wishes  he  was,  don't  you,  captain?  There  are  two  of 
us  here  whom  you  never  expected  to  see  in  the  flesh 
again;  are  there  not?  Take  your  time,  Julian,  and 
think  the  matter  over,  and  while  you  are  about  it  I  will 
look  around  and  pack  up  a  few  articles  that  may  be  of 
use  to  you,  for  we  are  going  to  find  new  quarters  for 
you  now." 

Julian  settled  back  in  a  chair  and  gazed  long  and 
earnestly  at  all  the  persons  in  the  room — at  the  old 
Mexican  who  stood  at  his  side  leaning  upon  his  staff;  at 
Silas,  sitting  upon  the  bed  and  smiling  complacently  at 
him  as  if  he  enjoyed  his  bewilderment;  at  Reginald 
Mortimer,  lying  bound  and  helpless  on  the  floor,  and 
who,  like  Julian,  was  almost  overwhelmed  with  aston- 
ishment; and  then  at  his  brother,  who  was  skipping 
about  the  room,  overhauling  the  bureau,  wardrobe  and 
book-case,  now  and  then  depositing  some  articles  which 
he  took  from  them  upon  a  blanket  he  had  spread  on 
the  floor. 

"My  brother!"  said  Julian  aloud.  "How  strangely 
it  sounds." 

"  Doesn't  it!"  replied  Fred,  pausing  in  his  work  and 
looking  over  his  shoulder  at  Julian.  "  But  it  is  the 
truth.  I  don't  know  what  you  think  about  it,  but  I  am 
delighted  to  claim  the  relationship.  A  brother  is  some- 


216  JULIAN  MORTIMER* 

thing  worth  having  out  here  in  this  wilderness,  I  tell 
you." 

"  What  is  your  name?"  asked  Julian. 

"Fred — White-horse  Fred,  if  it  suits  you  better — 
sworn  agent  for  a  band  of  outlaws  and  rascals  of  which 
our  worthy  uncle  here  is  the  acknowledged  leader.   Any 
objections  to  my  company?" 
'  Then  you  are  not  dead?" 
'  Do  I  look  like  it?" 
'  And  you  are  not  Julian  Mortimer?" 
'  By  no  means.     How  could  I  be  when  you  are  that 
lucky  individual?" 

'  Then  why  did  you  tell  Smirker  so  ?" 
'  To  help  you  out  of  a  scrape,"  replied  Fred,  picking 
up  the  bundle  he  had  made  and  throwing  it  over  his 
shoulder.  "  But  I  say,  Julian,"  he  added,  a  shade  of 
anxiety  overspreading  his  merry  countenance,  "of 
course  you  are  not  aware  of  the  fact,  but  you  have 
jeopardized  the  life  of  one  who  is  very  dear  to  both  of 
us  by  getting  into  this  fuss  with  Uncle  Reginald." 

"How?"  asked  Julian. 

"Why,  our  father  has  been  a  prisoner  in  the  hands  of 
the  band  of  which  I  am  a  member  for  eight  years,  and 
if  anything  happens  to  the  captain — Uncle  Reginald — 
his  jailors  have  orders  to  shoot  him  as  soon  as  word 
comes  to  their  ears." 

"The  news  is  on  the  way  to  them  now," said  the  rob- 
ber chief,  with  savage  emphasis,  ' '  and  he  will  be  shot 
before  daylight.  Pedro  is  already  on  his  road  to  the 
mountains." 

"  Who  sent  him?"  demanded  White-horse  Fred. 

"I  expect  he  sent  himself,"  cried  Julian,  starting 
from  his  chair  in  great  excitement.  I  saw  him  put  his 
head  in  at '  the  door  just  as  you  came  in.  We  must  be 
off  at  once." 

"  But  where  will  we  go,  and  what  shall  we  do?"  asked 
Fred.  "We  don't  know  where  father  is;  if  we  did,  we 
should  have  released  him  before  this  time." 

"  Well,  I  know  where  he  is,  and  I  have  seen  him. 
More  than  that,  I've  got  a  letter  from  him." 


HO  W  IT  KESUL  TED.  217 

"Hold  hard  thar!"  exclaimed  Silas,  as  Julian  drew 
the  letter  from  his  pocket,  and  moved  nearer  the  candle. 
"  Don't  read  a  word  of  it  here,  for  thar's  no  knowin' 
how  many  pairs  of  ears  thar  may  be  listenin*  to  it. 
Come  with  us,  an'  we  will  talk  this  matter  over." 

Julian  had  never  seen  three  persons  more  excited 
than  the  trapper  and  his  companions  were  over  the  an- 
nouncement he  had  just  made.  It  did  not  take  the 
form  of  words,  but  showed  itself  in  their  counte- 
nances, and  in  their  hurried,  nervous  actions.  They 
prepared  to  leave  the  room  at  once.  Silas  raised  the 
captive  robber  to  his  shoulder  as  if  he  had  been  a  sack 
of  flour,  while  the  old  Mexican  skipped  before  him 
like  a  boy  of  sixteen,  and  held  up  the  hangings  which 
concealed  the  entrance  to  the  secret  passage-way. 
White-horse  Fred,  who  had  looked  into  the  muzzle  of 
Smirker's  revolver  without  flinching  or  even  changing 
color,  was  pale  enough  now,  and  the  hand  with  which 
he  extended  Julian's  sombrero  to  him  now  trembled 
like  a  leaf.  They  left  the  room  without  saying  a  word, 
and  followed  Silas,  who  led  the  way  along  the  passage 
to  the  cellar,  where  they  found  a  man  with  a  lantern 
waiting  for  them.  It  was  Romez,  the  hostler.  He 
was  greatly  astonished  to  see  the  trapper  carrying  Regi- 
nald Mortimer  on  his  shoulder,  but  without  asking  any 
questions  he  turned  and  mounted  a  ladder  which  rested 
against  the  wall  of  the  cellar. 

While  Julian  was  going  up  he  had  leisure  to  make  an 
examination  of  the  store-house.  It  was  a  natural  cave 
in  the  mountain,  and  seemed  to  have  no  roof — at  least 
there  was  none  that  could  be  seen.  The  wall  against 
which  the  ladder  was  placed  arose  for  the  height  of 
thirty  feet,  as  smooth  and  perpendicular  as  if  it  had 
been  fashioned  by  the  hand  of  man,  and  terminated  in 
a  broad,  level  platform.  When  the  parties  stepped 
upon  this  platform  they  paused  until  Romez  had  drawn 
up  the  ladder,  and  then  mounted  to  a  second  ledge  of 
rock  higher  up  the  cavern.  This  ladder  was  also  drawn 
up,  and  the  journey  resumed  along  a  narrow,  slippery 
path,  that  finally  ended  in  a  dark  opening,  which  proved 
to  be  the  mouth  of  a  smaller  cave. 


JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

The  interior  of  this  cavern  presented  a  scene  which 
filled  Julian  with  astonishment.  Almost  the  first  ob- 
ject his  eyes  rested  upon  was  Smirker's  burly  form 
stretched  out  on  a  little  pallet  in  one  corner.  He  was 
securely  bound,  and  did  not  look  much  now  like  the 
reckless  desperado  he  had  appeared  when  Julian  first 
met  him  in  his  cabin.  But  the  presence  of  this  man  did 
not  occasion  him  so  much  astonishment  as  the  sight  of 
the  gold  that  was  scattered  about  the  room.  He  saw  it 
there  in  all  shapes — in  dust,  nuggets,  quartz  and  coin. 
It  was  stowed  away  in  chests,  tied  up  in  little  bags,  and 
packed  upon  shelves  and  piled  in  corners  as  if  it  had 
been  merchandise  of  some  description.  Julian  had 
never  dreamed  that  all  the  gold  mines  of  California 
could  produce  as  much  of  the  precious  metal  as  he  saw 
collected  in  that  one  small  room.  The  cave  was  also 
used  as  a  receptacle  for  various  odds  and  ends — rifles, 
revolvers,  muskets,  hunting-knives,  saddles  and  bridles. 
As  Julian  glanced  about  him  he  told  himself  that  he 
knew  now  what  had  become  of  some  of  the  articles  Un- 
cle Reginald  had  missed  from  his  rancho. 

"  During  your  travels  to-day  did  you  hear  Smirker  or 
anybody  else  say  anything  about  some  hidden  treasure 
which  he  hoped  to  handle  some  day?"  asked  White- 
horse  Fred. 

Julian  replied  that  he  did. 

"Well,  here  it  is.  This  is  the  cause  of  all  our  trouble. 
If  it  hadn't  been  for  these  yellow  boys  we  might  have 
been  a  united,  happy  family  to-day. " 

"I  don't  reckon  it'll  be  very  long  afore  we're  all  to- 
gether agin  like  we  used  to  be,"  said  Silas,  as  he  deposited 
his  prisoner  upon  the  pallet  beside  the  other.  "  If  the 
major  is  where  we  can  get  at  him  we'll  have  him  out 
this  very  night.  How  did  you  find  him,  Julian?" 

"Smirker  gave  me  a  horse  in  exchange  for  mine  that 
took  me  straight  to  his  prison,"  replied  the  boy.  And 
then  he  went  on  to  relate,  in  a  few  rapid  words,  how  his 
curiosity  had  led  him  to  walk  about  the  rancho,  and  that 
while  on  his  way  to  the  kitchen  he  had  found  the  pris- 
oner. He  described,  too,  how  narrowly  he  had  escaped 


HO  W  IT  RESUL  TED.  219 

discovery  by  the  Mexican  when  he  came  in  to  remove 
the  supper  dishes,  and  told  what  had  passed  between 
Uncle  .Reginald  and  himself  prior  to  the  arrival  of  Silas 
and  his  friends. 

"You  are  a  lucky  fellow,  Julian,"  said  White-horse 
Fred,  when  he  had  finished  his  story.  "  I  have  been 
making  regular  daily  journeys  to  that  rancho  for  more 
than  a  year,  and  never  saw  or  heard  anything  to  lead  me 
to  suspect  that  affairs  were  not  all  right  there.  I  used 
to  wonder  why  there  were  four  men  at  that  station 
and  only  one,  or  at  the  most  two,  at  the  others,  and 
have  thought  it  strange  that  they  should  always  be  so 
particular  to  hurry  me  away.  No  matter  how  bad  the 
weather  was  they  wouldn't  let  me  stay  all  night.  But 
what  is  to  be  done,  Silas?  Pedro  has  gone  to  the  mount- 
ains to  warn  Hale  and  his  crowd,  and  if  he  gets  there 
before  we  do,  the  discovery  Julian  has  made  will  be  of 
no  value  to  us." 

"  'Tain't  wuth  while  to  do  anything  in  a  hurry,"  re- 
plied the  trapper.  "  Let's  hear  what's  in  that  letter." 

Julian  drew  the  letter  from  his  pocket,  and  taking  his 
stand  near  the  lantern,  began  reading  it  aloud. 

We  do  not  reproduce  it  because  its  contents  have  no 
bearing  upon  our  story.  It  was  just  such  a  letter  as  any 
one  of  us  would  have  tried  to  write  had  we  been  placed 
in  Major  Mortimer's  situation.  It  described  some  events 
that  happened  long  years  before,  and  which  we  shall 
presently  hear  from  the  lips  of  White-horse  Fred,  and 
pleaded  for  assistance  in  language  that  would  have  wrung 
tears  of  pity  from  any  but  a  savage. 

Julian's  cheeks  were  wet  long  before  he  ceased  read- 
ing, and  once  he  stopped  and  turned  toward  the  robber 
chief  as  if  he  had  half  a  mind  to  take  an  ample  revenge 
on  him.  The  old  Mexican  wept  like  a  child,  and  gave 
vent  to  his  indignation  by  pounding  on  the  floor  with 
his  staff;  while  Silas  and  White-horse  Fred  stood,  with 
clinched  hands  and  compressed  lips,  gazing  at  Julian 
with  eyes  that  would  grow  dim  in  spite  of  them. 

A  dead  silence  succeeded  the  reading  of  the  letter, 
which  was  finally  broken  by  the  trapper,  who,  after  a 


220  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

short  consultation  with  the  two  boys,  determined  upon 
a  plan  of  action.  This  he  explained  in  a  few  words, 
and  preparations  were  at  once  made  to  carry  it  into 
effect. 

Leaving  the  old  Mexican  to  watch  the  prisoners,  the 
rest  of  the  party  descended  to  the  cellar  and  thence  made 
their  way  into  the  stables.  Julian  mounted  Snowdrop 
and  Fred  went  in  pursuit  of  her  mate,  but  he  was  gone. 

"Good  luck  attends  us  on  all  sides  to-night!"  said  he 
gleefully.  "  Here  were  a  dozen  horses  in  the  stable,  and 
instead  of  taking  a  fresh  one  that  blockhead  Pedro  se- 
lected an  animal  which  has  already  traveled  forty  miles 
to-night.  So  much  the  better  for  us.  We'll  overtake 
him  before  he  has  gone  five  miles." 

The  party  mounted  in  haste,  and  galloping  out  of  the 
gate  directed  their  course  down  the  valley. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

FEED'S  STORY. 

IIITE-IIORSE  FRED  and  his  long-lost  but 
now  recovered  brother  were  boys  who  were 
not  much  given  to  sentiment;  but  although 
they  did  not  go  into  ecstasies  over  one  an- 
other, they  were  none  the  less  delighted  at  their  re- 
union.  They  kept  as  close  together  as  possible,  and 
clung  to  each  other's  hands  as  they  galloped  along,  as  if 
afraid  that  something  might  again  come  between  them 
to  separate  them. 

"Well,  old  fellow,"  said  Fred  at  length,  "'it  didn't 
take  you  long  to  raise  a  row  after  you  got  here,  did  it. 
Uncle  Reginald  little  dreamed,  when  he  was  working  so 
hard  to  find  you  in  order  to  further  his  own  ends,  how 
completely  you  would  kick  over  his  kettle  of  fish  in  less 
than  twenty-four  hours  after  your  arrival.  We'll  keep 
those  white  horses  as  long  as  we  live,  won't  we.  They 
are  the  best  friends  we've  ever  had." 

"I  believe  that  now,"  replied  Julian;  "but  I  didn't 
think  so  when  they  were  roaming  about  among  the 
mountains  with  me  and  carry iiig  me  to  robber  dens. 
But,  Fred,  you  are  not  a  horse-thief?" 

"I  never  stole  a  horse,  or  anything  else,  if  that  is  what 
you  mean;  but  I  have  been  a  member  of  the  band  for 
more  than  a  year.  I've  had  charge  of  a  good  many  dol- 
lars' worth  of  stolen  property  first  and  last,  and  if  I  had 
happened  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  settlers  while  I 
had  it  in  my  possession,  I'd  have  been  gone  up  sure." 

"  Why,  Fred,  what  made  you  do  it." 

"I  had  an  object  in  view — one  that  justified  even 
worse  things  than  that.  It  will  not  retard  our  speed  in 
the  least  if  we  talk  as  we  go  along,  so  I  will  tell  my 
story  first — I  know  you  are  dying  to  hear  it — and  then 
I  will  listen  to  yours.  Where  shall  I  begin?" 


222  JULIAN  MOKTIMEX. 


"At  the  beginning,  of  course.  Tell  me  who  I  am, 
how  I  came  to  be  an  inmate  of  Jack  Bowies'  cabin,  and 
all  about  it.  I  have  lived  among  mysteries  for  the  last 
few  weeks,  and  I  want  every  one  of  them  explained." 

"And  yet  there  isn't  a  single  mystery  connected  with 
your  history,  or  mine,  either,"  replied  White-horse 
Fred.  "I  can  make  everything  plain  to  you  in  ten 
minutes.  In  the  first  place,  that  old  rancho  back  there 
is  our  home.  It  was  built  by  Grandfather  Cordova,  our 
mother's  father,  who  came  out  here  in  early  times. 
AVhen  I  tell  you  that  it  was  intended  as  a  fort  as  well  as 
a  dwelling,  you  will  know  how  those  secret  passage-ways 
came  to  be  there.  Such  a  building  was  necessary  in 
those  days,  for  it  was  hardly  safe  for  white  men 
about  -  " 

"  Safe!"  interrupted  Julian.     "  It  isn't  safe  now." 

"  Oh,  things  have  changed  wonderfully  since  that 
house  was  built,  and  even  during  my  recollection.  We 
call  ourselves  a  quiet,  orderly,  well-disposed  set  of 
people;  but  when  grandfather  first  came  out  here  he 
saw  some  excitements,  I  tell  you.  He  was  a  native 
of  Mexico,  and  brought  Avith  him  a  small  colony  of  his 
own  people.  The  Indians  were  so  troublesome  that  the 
government  was  obliged  to  keep  a  strong  body  of  troops 
here,  and  father  was  one  of  their  officers.  He  com- 
manded the  fort;  and  Silas,  who  was  in  more  than  one 
battle  with  him,  says  he  was  a  fighter  worth  looking  at. 
He  had  not  been  out  here  very  long  before  he  fell  in 
love  with  and  married  our  mother,  Inez  Cordova,  threw 
up  his  commission,  and  went  to  digging  gold  and  raising 
cattle.  Everything  went  on  smoothly  until  grandfather 
and  mother  died,  and  then  the  trouble  began.  In  one 
night  our  family  was  completely  broken  up  by  a  couple 
of  adventurers,  who  ought  certainly  to  have  had  some 
mercy  on  us  if  they  had  no  affection  for  us,  for  they 
were  our  mother's  brother  and  cousin. 

"  So  far  your  btory  corresponds  with  the  one  Sanders 
told  me,"  said  Julian. 

"  Can't  you  remember  anything  about  those  happy 
days?"  continued  White-horse  Fred.  "  I  can,  but  then 


223 

I  am  almost  two  years  older  than  you  are.  I  can  re- 
member tluit  Juan — the  old  fellow  who  came  into  your 
room  with  us  to-night — and  his  two  boys,  Komez  and 
Antoine,  were  great  favorites  of  mine.  Juan  was 
father's  major  domo — he  had  charge  of  everything  in  the 
house.  Komez  was  the  hostler,  and  Antoine  was  the 
chief  herdsman.  They  were  life-long  servants  of  our 
family,  and  they  and  a  few  others  have  since  proved 
themselves  as  true  as  steel.  When  I  became  old  enough 
to  be  trusted  alone  with  a  horse,  I  used  to  ride  out  to 
Antoine's  hut,  which  was  located  in  the  lower  end  of 
the  valley,  and  spend  weeks  at  a  time  with  him,  assist- 
ing in  herding  the  cattle  and  learning  to  throw  the 
lasso.  Father  would  occasionally  ride  out  there  to  see 
that  I  was  all  right,  and  now  and  then  I  would  come 
home  to  spend  a  day  with  you." 

"I  can  remember  those  visits,"  observed  Julian. 

"At  that  time,  in  spite  of  the  gloom  thrown  over  it 
by  the  death  of  our  mother,  which  occurred  when  you 
were  about  three  years  old,  our  house  was  not  the  deso- 
late place  it  is  now.  The  officers  of  the  fort  used  to 
visit  there  regularly  to  talk  over  army  matters  with 
father,  eat  Juan's  excellent  dinners,  and  enjoy  the 
splendid  shooting  the  mountains  afforded.  Father  did 
considerable  trading  with  the  trappers  and  friendly  In- 
dians; the  house  was  always  full,  and  there  was  always 
something  interesting  going  on  there.  Somehow  the 
story  got  abroad  that  father  was  immensely  rich.  Well, 
he  was  wealthy,  but  he  didn't  have  as  much  money  as 
most  people  supposed  he  did." 

"How  much  was  he  worth,  anyhow?"  asked  Julian. 

"  Perhaps  a  couple  of  million,  and  the  most  of  that 
once  belonged  to  grandfather." 

"  Why,  I  heard  Pedro  tell  Sanders  that  he  had  fifty 
millions  stowed  away  somewhere." 

"Ah,  nonsense!  Pedro  has  about  as  clear  ideas  of 
wealth  as  he  has  of  the  moon;  and  that's  something  he 
knows  nothing  at  all  about.  The  story  got  wind  from 
this  simple  circumstance:  Father  was  one  day  walking 
up  a  little  ravine  a  short  distance  from  the  house,  pros- 


224  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

pecting,  when  he  found  a  pretty  good-sized  nugget. 
The  next  day  he  picked  up  another,  and  a  week  or  two 
afterward  he  found  a  third.  He  told  some  of  the 
officers  of  it,  and  they  spread  it  around.  There  were  a 
few  miners  here  then,  and  they  at  once  crowded  into 
the  ravine  and  turned  up  every  inch  of  it;  but  ndt  an- 
other nugget  was  brought  to  light.  That,  however,  did 
not  serve  to  convince  them  that  there  was  not  a  gold 
mine  of  wonderful  richness  hidden  about  there  some- 
where. They  industriously  circulated  the  report,  and 
finally  the  story,  together  with  the  news  of  grandfather's 
death  and  mother's,  reached  the  ears  of  a  couple  of  men 
in  San  Francisco,  who  at  once  laid  their  plans  to  pos- 
sess themselves  of  father's  wealth.  They  were  Keginald 
and  Eichard  Cordova,  mother's  brother  and  cousin. 

"They  were  graceless  scamps,  those  same  fellows — 
professional  gamblers,  who  had  been  cast  off  by  grand- 
father on  account  of  their  profligate  habits.  As  our 
parents  had  never  mentioned  their  names,  no  one  out 
here  knew  that  there  were  such  men  in  existence. 
They  came  to  the  mountains,  and,  as  bad  luck  would 
have  it,  the  first  man  whose  acquaintance  they  made 
was  Ned  Sanders.  They  pumped  him  carefully,  and 
found  that  he  was  just  the  fellow  they  wanted,  for  he 
knew  a  good  deal  about  our  family,  and  would  do  any- 
thing for  money.  They  unfolded  their  plans  to  him, 
which  were  to  murder  father  and  his  boys,  and  claiming 
to  be  his  brothers,  seize  upon  his  property.  Sanders 
entered  heartily  into  their  scheme,  but  he  proposed  a 
slight  change  of  programme. 

"  '  I've  got  better  idees  nor  them,'  said  he.  '  The  ole 
major's  got  a  heap  of  money  laid  up  somewhar,  but  it 
ain't  a  drop  in  the  bucket  to  what  we'd  finger  if  we 
could  only  find  that  hidden  gold  mine  of  his'n.  We'll 
make  way  with  the  boys,  'cause  they  won't  be  of  no  use 
to  us;  but  we  won't  harm  the  major.  In  course  he 
won't  want  to  tell  us  whar  the  gold  mine  is,  and  we 
can't  scare  him  into  it,  nuther,  'cause  he's  one  of  them 
kind  of  fellers  that  don't  scare  wuth  a  cent;  but  we 
can  force  it  out  o'  him  in  another  way.  "We'll  make  a 


FRED'S  STOR  Y.  225 

prisoner  of  him,  and  shut  him  up  away  from  his  horses, 
an'  his  hounds,  an'  his  cattle,  an'  keep  him  shut  up  till 
he  is  willin'  to  tell  us  what  we  want  to  know/ 

"Just  see  the  heathenish  ingenuity  Sanders  ex- 
hibited!" exclaimed  White-horse  Fred  angrily.  "  Know- 
ing full  well  that  father  could  not  be  frightened  into 
revealing  his  secret,  he  resolved  to  torture  it  out  of  him; 
and  he  decided,  too,  upon  the  only  method  that  could 
by  any  possibility  prove  successful.  Being  a  man  of 
active  habits,  it  would  be  but  little  short  of  death  for 
him  to  be  shut  out  from  the  world  and  deprived  of  oc- 
cupation. Liberty  and  something  to  do  were  as  neces- 
sary to  his  existence  as  the  food  he  ate, 

"  Sanders  also  told  the  plotters  that  Major  Mortimer 
and  his  boys  were  not  the  only  ones  with  whom  they 
would  have  to  deal.  There  were  some  firm  friends  of 
the  family  who  must  be  got  rid  of,  or  they  would  make 
trouble.  First,  there  was  Silas  lloper.  During  a  battle 
with  the  Indians,  father  had  saved  his  life  at  the  risk  of 
his  own,  and  Silas  was  so  grateful  for  it  that  he  gave  up 
hunting  and  trapping  and  turned  herdsman  in  order 
that  he  might  always  be  near  father.  It  wouldn't  be  a 
safe  piece  of  business  to  attempt  to  harm  the  major  or 
any  of  his  family  while  Silas  was  about.  And  there  was 
old  Juan  and  half  a  dozen  others,  who  had  been  em- 
ployed in  the  family  in  grandfather's  life-time.  They 
could  never  be  induced  to  lend  their  aid  to  so  villainous 
a  scheme,  and  they  must  be  killed.  In  order  to  cope 
Avith  so  many  men — Silas  was  a  small  army  in  himself — 
it  would  be  necessary  to  have  more  help,  and  this  San- 
ders agreed  to  furnish. 

"  The  plan  was  thoroughly  discussed,  and  a  time  set 
for  carrying  it  into  execution.  When  the  night  arrived, 
Sanders  appeared  with  three  choice  spirits,  named 
Smirker,  Hale  and  Lutz.  They  began  operations  by 
effecting  an  entrance  into  the  rancho  through  the  cellar. 
Father  was  surprised  in  his  bed,  and  bound  hand  and 
foot;  three  of  the  obnoxious  Mexicans  were  murdered  in 
their  sleep;  but  old  Juan,  taking  the  alarm,  iled  from 
the  house.  He  was  seen,  however,  pursued,  and  over- 


226  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

taken  on  the  brink  of  a  deep  gully,  a  short  distance 
away.  He  was  stabbed,  shot  twice,  beaten  on  the  head 
with  the  butt  of  a  rifle,  and  finally  thrown  over  the  cliff; 
but  he  is  to-night  hale  and  hearty,  in  spite  of  his  wounds 
and  his  ninety-five  years. 

"  The  next  in  order  was  Silas  Roper.  They  sur- 
rounded his  cabin,  broke  open  the  door,  and  there  their 
operations  in  that  quarter  ceased.  The  trapper,  who 
says  he  always  keeps  himself  in  trim  for  a  fight,  assumed 
the  offensive  at  once,  and  whipped  out  his  assailants 
with  an  ease  that  must  have  astonished  them.  Lutz, 
who  was  the  first  to  enter  the  cabin,  was  shot  dead  in 
his  tracks;  Reginald  received  a  blow  over  the  head  that 
laid  him  aside  for  a  week  or  two;  Sanders  got  another, 
and  so  did  Smirker;  and  Silas  escaped  Avithout  a  scratch. 

"  The  next  thing  was  to  go  back  to  the  house  after 
you  and  me.  I  remember  as  well  how  I  felt  when  1 
awoke  and  found  the  outlaws  in  my  room  as  if  the  in- 
cidents I  am  trying  to  describe  had  happened  only 
yesterday.  I  remember,  too,  of  seeing  you  jump  out  of 
bed,  and  draw  a  bee-line  for  the  door.  You  got  out, 
but  Sanders  ran  after  you  and  brought  you  back." 

"  That  must  have  been  what  he  referred  to  when  he 
told  me  that  he  and  I  once  ran  afoot-race,"  said  Julian. 

"  I  can  recall  the  thoughts  that  passed  through  my 
mind  when  Sanders  and  Smirker,  accompanied  by 
Richard,  were  taking  us  down  to  the  lake  to  throw  us  in. 
I  remember  of  falling  through  the  air  and  sinking  in  the 
water,  but  beyond  that  all  is  blank  to  me.  After  I  was 
thrown  in,  an  idea  suddenly  occurred  to  Richard,  and 
he  concluded  to  make  a  change  in  his  programme,  and 
save  you  alive  for  some  future  emergency.  A  time 
might  arrive  when  an  heir  to  the  hidden  gold  mine — in 
the  existence  of  which  he  and  his  cousin  firmly  believed 
— would  be  a  convenient  thing  to  have  about.  There 
were  a  good  many  ways  in  which  he  might  be  used.  So 
Richard,  after  seeing  his  cousin  disposed  of  in  some 
remote  place  where  he  would  not  be  likely  to  be  dis- 
covered, and  giving  Sanders  some  very  minute  instruc- 
tions, took  you  and  started  off  to  Missouri. 


FXED*S  STORY.  22? 

"  In  the  meantime,  old  Juan  had  recovered  his  con- 
sciousness. When  he  was  thrown  into  the  gorge  he  did 
not  fall  to  the  bottom,  but  lodged  on  a  leaning  tree  about 
four  feet  below  the  brink  of  the  cliff.  When  he  came  to 
himself  he  crawled  down  to  the  lake  to  bathe  his 
wounds,  but  stopped  just  before  he  reached  the  bank, 
for  he  saw  llichard  and  the  two  outlaws  coming  down 
with  us.  He  saw  them  throw  me  into  the  water,  and 
when  they  went  away  with  you  he  jumped  in  and 
rescued  me. 

"  In  the  morning  those  of  the  servants  who  had  not 
been  molested,  and  who  had  slept  soundly  in  spite  of  all 
the  noise  and  confusion,  awoke  to  find  the  rancho  almost 
deserted.  The  owner  and  his  family  had  disappeared, 
and  some  of  their  own  number  were  lying  dead  in  their 
beds.  They  went  at  once  in  search  of  the  commanding 
officer  of  the  fort,  who  came  up,  but  could  make  noth- 
ing of  our  disappearance.  At  the  end  of  a  week  or  two, 
as  nothing  was  seen  or  heard  of  us,  he  concluded  that 
we  also  had  been  foully  dealt  with,  and  thought  it  high 
time  that  some  one  was  put  there  to  attend  to  things. 
He  asked  the  servants  if  they  knew  whether  or  not 
father  had  any  relatives  near,  and  Sanders,  who  hap- 
pened to  be  present,  said  he  had  heard  him  speak  of  two 
brothers,  Reginald  and  Richard  Mortimer,  who  were 
living  in  San  Francisco.  'The  officer  decided  to  send  a 
letter  to  them,  and  Sanders  agreed  to  carry  it.  He 
made  a  great  show  of  starting  off,  but  rode  only  about 
five  miles  through  the  mountains  to  a  miserable  little 
hut  where  Reginald  was  waiting  for  him. 

"  Two  months  afterward  Uncle  Reginald  was  acknowl- 
edged by  the  officers,  the  settlers,  and  the  servants  as  the 
lawful  master  of  the  rancho,  and  father  was  languishing 
in  the  prison  into  which  he  had  been  thrown,  with  the 
assurance  that  he  should  never  come  out  of  it  until  he 
told  where  his  wealth  was  concealed.  He  denied  all 
knowledge  of  the  gold  mine,  but  said  that  he  had  some 
money  stowed  away  in  a  safe  place,  and  that  he  would 
die  in  confinement  before  he  would  tell  where  it  was." 

"  Why  didn't  Silas  and  Juan  go  to  the  commander  of 


228  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

the  fort  and  tell  him  what  had  happened?"  asked 
Julian. 

"  I  was  just  coming  to  that.  They  met  the  next 
morning  in  our  treasure-house,  which  you  visited  to- 
night, to  talk  the  matter  over.  They  had  both  seen 
enough  to  satisfy  them  that  father  had  been  carried  away 
as  a  prisoner,  and  they  had  no  difficulty  in  guessing  at 
the  object  his  captors  had  in  view.  If  they  told  the 
commander  of  the  fort  he  would  send  his  cavalry  scout- 
ing about  among  the  mountains,  and  that  would  alarm 
the  robbers,  and  perhaps  lead  them  to  murder  father. 
The  first  thing  to  be  done  was  to  find  out  where  he  was 
confined,  and  it  would  be  time  enough  to  call  in  the 
help  of  the  troops  when  that  had  been  ascertained. 
But  with  all  their  efforts — and  they  did  everything  men 
could  do — they  failed  to  gain  the  slightest  clew  to  his 
whereabouts.  He  had  disappeared  as  completely  as 
though  he  had  never  existed  at  all.  They  spent  years  in 
the  search,  but  until  you  told  them  Avhat  you  had  seen 
to-night  they  knew  no  more  about  the  matter  than  they 
did  when  father  was  first  captured. 

"About  four  years  ago  I  thought  I  was  getting  old 
enough  and  shrewd  enough  to  take  a  part  in  the  search 
myself ;  but  Silas  and  Juan  would  not  permit  it.  They 
said  that  as  long  as  I  kept  out  of  sight  everybody  would 
believe  me  dead,  but  that  if  I  showed  my  face  I  would 
be  recognized  at  once,  and  Reginald  would  send  some 
one  after  me  who  would  make  sure  work  of  me.  But  at 
last  I  could  endure  the  inactivity  no  longer;  and  once, 
when  Silas  was  away  in  the  mountains,  I  came  out  of  the 
cave  in  which  I  had  spent  the  best  part  of  four  years  of 
my  life,  and  began  to  look  about  to  find  something  to 
do.  Most  of  father's  servants  were  gone,  and  their 
places  were  supplied  with  new  ones ;  but  there  were 
some  of  the  old  ones  left,  and  among  them  were  Romez, 
Antoine  and  Itlmriel.  The  latter  had  been  promoted 
by  Richard  Mortimer,  as  he  called  himself,  to  the  posi- 
tion of  body-servant;  Romez  held  his  old  position  as 
hostler,  and  Antoine  was  still  a  herdsman.  I  lived  with 
the  latter  for  two  years,  assisting  him  in  his  duties,  and 


FRED'S  STORY.  22(J 

waiting  impatiently  for  something  to  turn  up.  I  was 
careful  to  keep  out  of  sight  of  Reginald  and  Richard, 
but  mingled  freely  with  the  rest  of  the  people  about  the 
rancho,  and  even  with  the  soldiers  and  settlers,  and  no 
one  knew  me.  I  paid  regular  nightly  visits  to  old  Juan, 
who  lived  in  the  cave  where  father's  money  was  hidden, 
and  once  while  on  my  way  there  something  happened 
that  suggested  to  me  a  plan  of  action. 

"  There  are  two  passage-ways  that  lead  to  the  cellar — 
one  from  the  house  and  the  other  from  the  outside  of 
the  hill.  I  always  went  in  through  the  latter,  and  I 
went  very  slowly  and  cautiously  too,  for  fear  of  finding 
some  one  in  there  whom  I  did  not  care  to  see.  One 
night  I  did  find  some  persons  there — Reginald  and 
Richard,  who  were  examining  the  walls  of  the  cellar  by 
the  aid  of  a  lantern.  Old  Juan  said  they  used  to  spend 
a  good  deal  of  time  there  looking  for  the  concealed 
treasure. 

"  I  was  so  surprised  to  see  them  that  I  did  not  think 
of  retreat,  and  after  I  had  time  to  collect  my  thoughts  I 
did  not  feel  any  inclination  to  turn  back.  Although  I 
had  often  seen  the  men  at  a  distance,  this  was  the  first 
time  since  that  memorable  night  that  I  had  ever  been  so 
near  to  them,  and  I  wanted  to  take  a  good  look  at  them. 
Silas  and  Juan  had  often  told  me  in  the  most  emphatic 
language  never  to  attempt  to  harm  one  of  them,  even  if 
I  got  the  opportunity — and  knowing  that  they  had 
father's  welfare  at  heart,  and  that  they  were  wiser  than 
myself,  I  had  promised  to  obey.  But  I  could  not  resist 
the  temptation  to  draw  my  rifle  to  my  shoulder  and 
cover  both  their  heads  with  the  sight — they  were  stand- 
ing closely  together  and  squarely  in  line,  so  that  one 
bullet  would  have  passed  through  them  both — telling 
myself  the  while  how  easily  I  could  shoot  them,  and  how 
richly  they  deserved  it.  While  I  stood  in  this  position 
Reginald  turned  toward  me.  Finding  that  I  was  discov- 
ered, I  did  not  lower  my  rifle,  but  kept  it  at  my  shoulder, 
determined  that  if  he  offered  to  molest  me  I  would  resist 
him  to  the  best  of  my  ability.  But  I  soon  found  that  1 
had  nothing  to  fear. "  lie  stood  for  a  moment  gazing  at 


230  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

me  with  eyes  that  seemed  almost  ready  to  start  from 
their  sockets,  and  said  in  a  husky  voice: 
11 '  Merciful  heavens!  Dick,  look  there!' 
"  Dick  looked,  and  one  look  was  enough.  He  pro- 
nounced my  name  with  a  shriek,  and  dropping  his 
lantern,  fled  from  the  cellar,  closely  followed  by  his 
cousin.  At  first  I  was  greatly  astonished  at  their  be- 
havior, but  after  thinking  the  matter  over,  I  began  to 
understand  it.  Keginald  and  Richard  are  very  ignorant 
men,  in  spite  of  their  fine  flow  of  language,  and  of 
course  they  are  superstitious.  They  believe  in  signs  and 
omens,  and  apparitions,  and  knowing  that  they  had  put 
me  at  the  bottom  of  the  lake,  they  could  not  compre- 
hend how  I  came  to  be  standing  there  alive  and  un- 
harmed. This,  as  I  have  said,  suggested  to  me  a  plan 
of  action.  I  knew  all  about  those  secret  passage-ways, 
and  I  made  use  of  them  to  keep  those  two  guilty  men 
in  a  constant  state  of  alarm.  I  gave  up  herding  cattle 
and  spent  all  my  time  loitering  about  the  house,  listen- 
ing to  the  conversations  between  Reginald  and  his  fol- 
lowers, and  showing  myself  whenever  I  saw  an  oppor- 
tunity to  frighten  somebody.  I  tied  a  piece  of  thick 
green  cloth  over  the  bull's-eye  of  a  dark  lantern,  and 
carrying  this  in  my  hand  I  used  to  wander  about  the 
passage-ways  of  nights,  uttering  the  most  unearthly 
shrieks  and  howls.  I  paid  regular  visits  to  Reginald's 
sleeping- room  and  Dick's,  and  took  possession  of  every- 
thing I  could  carry  away,  such  as  money,  weapons, 
clothing  and  furniture.  Old  Juan  undertook  to  watch 
the  cellar.  He  showed  himself  every  time  Reginald, 
Richard,  or  Pedro  went  in  there,  and  finally  frightened 
Richard  so  badly  that  he  left  the  house  and  went  to  live 
in  a  little  cabin  he  built  in  the  mountains. 

11  One  night  I  went  into  a  room  to  see  what  I  could 
pick  up,  and  whom  should  I  find  there  but  Ned  San- 
ders and  an  outlaw  friend  of  his  fast  asleep  in  bed.  I 
took  possession  of  their  weapons,  carried  them  into  the 
passage-way  out  of  their  reach,  and  then  placing  my 
lantern  in  one  corner,  and  taking  my  stand  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  room  where  the  light  would  fall  squarely  on 


FEED'S  STOtfy.  231 

my  face,  began  to  groan  awfully.  I  was  not  long  in 
arousing  them,  and  when  their  eyes  were  fairly  open 
they  were  not  long  in  leaving  the  room  either.  I  never 
found  an  opportunity  to  appear  to  Sanders  after  that, 
for  he  shunned  the  rancho  as  if  it  had  been  a  grizzly 
bear's  den. 

"  I  spent  a  good  many  months  in  this  way,  and  at 
last  finding  that  I  coiild  learn  nothing  about  father,  I 
went  to  herding  cattle  again.  In  the  meantime  Uncle 
Eeginald  and  Sanders  had  organized  a  band  of  robbers 
and  horse-thieves;  and  this,  as  I  afterward  learned,  was 
the  occasion  of  a  fierce  quarrel  between  the  cousins, 
who  came  to  blows  over  it.  Richard  didn't  want  any- 
thing to  do  with  such  an  organization,  believing  that  it 
would  endanger  the  success  of  their  plans,  but  Reginald 
carried  his  point.  Richard  never  forgave  his  cousin  for 
that,  and  being  determined  to  be  revenged  upon  him 
he  has  been  working  for  the  last  two  years  to  obtain 
possession  of  all  father's  money,  intending  as  soon  as  he 
gets  it  to  decamp  and  leave  Reginald  in  the  lurch." 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

FEED'S  STORY,  CONCLUDED. 

ELIEVING  that  some  of  the  members  of 
this  band  of  robbers  knew  where  father  was/' 
continued  White-horse  Fred,  "  I  watched  for 
an  opportunity  to  join  it,  and  finally  suc- 
ceeded in  my  object.  I  became  one  of  the  runners,  or 
couriers;  that  is,  it  was  my  duty  to  convey  orders  and 
the  stolen  property  from  one  point  to  another.  It  was 
a  subordinate  position,  although  I  ran  just  as  much 
risk  as  Sanders,  or  any  other  member  of  the  band  who 
did  the  stealing,  and  I  knew  that  as  long  as  I  held  it  I 
could  not  hope  to  learn  much  of  the  secret  business  of 
the  organization;  consequently  I  worked  hard  for  pro- 
motion, and,  if  I  am  to  believe  what  I  have  been  told, 
I  did  some  reckless  things.  At  any  rate,  it  wasn't 
long  before  the  name  of  White-horse  Fred  became 
pretty  well  known  about  here.  I  have  been  chased  and 
shot  at  by  soldiers  and  settlers  more  times  than  I  can 
remember,  and  I  have  been  in  the  fort  when  the  officers 
were  talking  about  me  and  laving  plans  for  my  cap- 
ture." 

"  Why  didn't  they  recognize  you?"  asked  Julian. 
"I  didn't  say  that  /was  well  known,  did  I?  I  said 
my  name  was.  The  officers  didn't  know  who  I  was — • 
that's  the  reason  they  didn't  recognize  me.  There  were 
only  five  men  who  knew  me  by  the  name  I  bore — 
Smirker,  and  the  four  fellows  at  Hale's  rancho.  No 
one  dreamed  that  White-horse  Fred  and  the  apparition 
who  kept  Uncle  Reginald's  rancho  in  such  an  uproar 
Avere  one  and  the  same  person,  and  I  had  emphatic 
orders  from  Silas  and  Juan  never  to  reveal  myself. 
Everybody  had  heard  of  the  queer  doings  at  Uncle 


FRED'S  STORY)   CONCLUDED.  ^3'] 

Reginald's,  and  it  Avas  whispered  about  among  the  rob- 
bers that  Fred  Mortimer  and  old  Juan  had  risen  from 
their  graves  to  torment  their  murderers.  I  was  in 
hopes  that  we  would  soon  frighten  Reginald  away;  but 
he  had  come  there  after  father's  money,  and  he  was 
determined  he  would  not  go  until  he  got  it. 

"All  this  while — my  story  has  now  covered  the  space 
of  more  than  seven  years — Reginald  was  keeping  father 
closely  confined  in  some  hidden  prison,  hoping  to  break 
his  spirit  and  force  him  to  tell  Avhere  his  money  was 
concealed.  But  father  remained  firm,  and  Reginald 
became  tired  of  waiting  at  last,  and  so  did  Sanders. 
The  latter  finally  thought  up  another  plan  by  Avhich  to 
obtain  possession  of  the  treasure,  and  when  he  had 
matured  it  he  went  to  Reginald  to  talk  it  over. 

"  Old  Juan,  who  was  always  on  the  watch,  saw  him 
go  into  the  rancho,  and  believing  that  he  had  some 
private  business  to  transact  that  it  might  be  well  for 
him  to  overhear,  he  went  into  the  passage-way,  opened 
the  secret  door  that  led  into  Reginald's  sleeping-room, 
and  set  himself  to  listen.  We  afterward  learned  that 
there  was  another  listener  to  that  conversation,  and  it 
was  Richard.  He  and  Reginald  were  now  at  open 
enmity.  He  never  made  his  appearance  at  the  rancho 
in  the  day-time,  but  loitered  about  there  of  nights, 
searching  everywhere  for  the  money,  and  taking  notes 
of  all  that  was  going  on — and  I  ought  to  say  right  here 
that  Richard  and  Sanders,  who  had  hitherto  been  fast 
friends,  had  a  falling  out.  Richard,  for  some  reasons 
of  his  own,  did  not  want  his  cousin  to  know  that  you 
were  alive.  Sanders  and  Smirker  were  the  only  ones 
beside  himself  who  Avere  acquainted  with  the  secret, 
and  as  soon  as  they  found  out  that  he  wanted  it  kept 
from  Reginald's  knowledge  they  demanded  yellow  boys 
as  the  price  of  their  silence.  Richard  supplied  their 
Avants  as  long  as  he  could,  but  at  last  his  funds  were 
exhausted  and  he  could  obtain  no  more.  Sanders  had 
been  expecting  this,  and  having  pumped  Richard's 
pockets  dry,  he  deserted  him  and  went  over  to  Reg- 
inald. 


234  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

" '  Capen/  said  Sanders,  when  he  and  Eeginald  had 
locked  themselves  in  the  bed-room  in  which  their  private 
interviews  were  always  held,  '  I'm  gettin'  monstrous 
tired  of  waitin'  fur  a  sight  o'  them  big  nuggets.  The 
old  major's  never  goin'  to  give  in — he'll  die  fust/ 

"  'I  am  afraid  so/'  replied  Reginald;  'but  what  can 
I  do  more  than  I  have  done?  It  is  a  very  easy  thing  to 
deprive  a  man  of  his  liberty,  but  it's  quite  a  different 
matter  to  make  him  open  his  mouth  when  he's  deter- 
mined he  won't.  If  we  had  only  been  smart  enough  to 
keep  the  boys  alive,  we  could  have  worked  on  his  feel- 
ings through  them.  But  he  knows  they  are  dead,  and 
that's  what  makes  him  so  desperate/ 

"  'I  know  nary  one  of  'em  hain't  dead/  replied  San- 
ders. '  I  mean,  you  see ' 

"  '  Yes,  I  know  what  you  mean.  You  mean  that  they 
are  both  dead,  but  that  one  of  them  has  come  back  and 
walks  around  nights,'  said  Reginald,  looking  all  about 
the  room  as  if  he  expected  to  see  something  frightful. 
'But  you  haven't  seen  the  other — Jiilian — have  you/ 

"  'No;  but  I  know  he's  alive.  Oh,  it's  a  fact/  added 
Sanders,  seeing  by  the  expression  on  Reginald's  face  that 
he  was  hardly  prepared  to  believe  this.  'He  wasn't 
never  hurt  at  all.  Fred  was  flung  into  the  lake  and 
drownded — an'  I  don't  see  why  in  creation  he  don't  stay 
thar — but  Julian  wasn't/ 

"And  with  this  preface,  Sanders  went  on  to  tell  what 
Richard  had  done  with  you,  and  why  he  had  saved  you 
alive.  He  said  that  from  some  remarks  Richard  had  ac- 
cidentally let  fall  he  had  learned  pretty  nearly  where 
you  could  be  found,  and  added  that  for  a  suitable  con- 
sideration he  would  produce  you. 

"  'An'  when  we  get  him  out  here,  capen,  we'll  have 
two  strings  to  our  bow/  continued  Sanders.  '  I  don't  go 
in  very  strong  fur  attemptin'  to  work  on  the  f  eelin's  of  the 
major — leastways  not  till  we  have  tried  something  else — 
'cause  he's  awfully  hard-headed,  an'  when  he  onct  makes 
up  his  mind  to  a  thing  he's  as  sot  as  one  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains.  Thar's  one  other  man  in  the  world  who 
knows  wbar  the  nuggets  is  hid,  an'  if  we  can  get  hold  of 


FRED'S  STORY,  CONCLUDED.  335 

him,  I  b'lieve  we  can  make  him  open  his  mouth.  It's 
Silas  Roper.  You  see,  him  an'  old  Juan  used  to  do 
pua-ty  much  as  they  pleased  here  in  the  major's  time, 
an'  they  knowed  all  about  his  private  business  matters. 
Juan  would  be  the  best  one  to  work  on,  'cause  he  hain't 
got  Silas's  grit,  but  he  hain't  come  back  here  in  sich 
shape  that  we  can  manage  him.' 

"'But  we  don't  know  where  Silas  is/  said  Reginald. 

" '  Never  mind.  He's  about  here  somewhar,  an  I'll 
bet  a  hoss  onto  it.  An'  I'll  bet  on  another  thing,  too: 
As  soon  as  Silas  finds  out  that  we've  got  Julian  here 
he'll  come  out  of  his  hidin'-place,  an'  we  can  captur' 
him.  Understand  my  plan,  don't  you?' 

"  Reginald  did  understand  it,  and  gave  it  his  hearty 
approval.  He  spent  an  hour  talking  the  matter  over 
with  Sanders,  giving  him  some  very  minute  instruc- 
tions, so  that  there  could  be  no  possible  chance  for  fail- 
ure, and  brought  the  interview  to  an  end  by  telling  him 
a  long  list  of  lies  to  be  repeated  to  you,  and  furnishing 
him  money  to  bear  his  expenses  to  the  States." 

"I  have  often  wondered  what  object  Sanders  could 
have  had  in  misrepresenting  things  as  he  did,"  remarked 
Julian. 

"  I  can  tell  you.  Reginald  thought  it  very  probable 
that  you  had  been  left  in  some  thickly  settled  part  of 
the  country,  and  he  was  afraid  that  Sanders,  if  left  to 
himself,  might  attempt  to  carry  you  away  by  force.  By 
doing  that  he  might  have  aroused  the  settlers  and  the 
officers  of  the  law  in  the  neighborhood,  and  thus  de- 
feated his  plans.  If  he  had  once  succeeded  in  getting 
you  out  on  the  prairie  away  from  everybody,  he  would 
have  thrown  off  his  mask  and  appeared  in  his  true  char- 
acter very  cjuickly. 

"Sanders  started  for  the  States  that  very  night,  and 
so  did  Richard.  The  latter  was  determined  that  if  he 
could  not  possess  father's  money  nobody  should,  and  he 
hoped  to  reach  your  hiding-place  in  advance  of  Sanders, 
and  dispose  of  you  so  effectually  that  you  never  could  be 
found.  Old  Juan  told  Silas  about  it  when  he  came  in 
from  the  mountains,  and  he  also  started  for  the  States, 


236  JULIAN  MORTIMER, 

intending  to  wait  for  you  at  St.  Joe,  and  to  take  charge 
of  you  if  Sanders  brought  you  there.  He  succeeded  in 
getting  hold  of  you  at  last,  and  brought  you  to  the 
mountains.  Eichard,  finding  himself  outwitted,  joined 
your  train  in  disguise,  hoping  to  find  an  opportunity  to 
shoot  you  during  the  journey,  while  Sanders  came  on 
ahead  and  raised  a  band  of  Indians  to  attack  the  train. 
He  had  been  promised  $5,000  if  he  would  deliver  you 
into  Eeginald's  hands,  and  that  money  he  was  deter- 
mined to  have.  Our  affairs  have  been  pretty  Avell  mixed 
up  for  the  last  eight  years,  but  this  night  will  see  them 
straightened  out  again.-" 

"  I  certainly  hope  so.  But,  Fred,  why  didn't  Silas, 
when  he  found  me,  tell  me  that  he  was  a  friend,  and 
that  he  would  assist  me?" 

"He  did  tell  you  that.  If  he  had  told  you  more, 
would  you  have  believed  him?  Hadn't  Sanders  deceived 
you  and  made  you  suspicious  of  everybody?  When  you 
and  Silas  were  sitting  on  the  steps  of  the  hotel  in  St. 
Joe,  and  he  told  you  that  he  knew  who  you  were,  didn't 
you  jump  up  and  run  away  from  him?  The  old  fellow 
isn't  much  given  to  talking  anyhow.  He  believes  in 
actions  rather  than  words.  You  know  that  he  was  cap- 
tured by  Sanders  and  some  of  his  band  on  the  night  the 
train  was  attacked,  and  that  he  escaped  from  them  the 
next  morning." 

"What  would  Eeginald  have  done  to  him  if  he  had 
been  brought  to  the  rancho?" 

"  He  would  have  tried  to  force  him  to  tell  where 
father's  money  was  hidden,  and  if  he  had  refused,  as  he 
certainly  would  have  done,  that  would  have  been  the  last 
of  Silas.  Then  Eeginald  would  have  used  you  to  frighten 
father,  telling  him  that  he  had  you  in  his  power,  and 
that  if  he  didn't  tell  where  that  money  was  he  would  do 
something  dreadful  to  you." 

"  What  was  Eeginald's  object  in  treating  me  so  kindly? 
Why  didn't  he  keep  me  a  close  prisoner?" 

' '  Why,  he  wanted  to  make  Silas  Eoper  show  himself, 
so  that  he  could  be  captured.  That  could  never  be  done 
by  shutting  you  up.  The  best  way  was  to  give  you  full 


FRED'S  STORY,   CONCLUDED.  337 

swing,  and  allow  you  to  roam  about  as  much  as  you 
pleased,  for  then  Silas  would  be  sure  to  see  you,  and  you 
would  sooner  or  later  get  into  the  habit  of  meeting  him 
regularly;  and  when  that  state  of  affairs  had  been 
brought  about,  it  would  be  but  little  trouble  for  Sanders 
and  some  of  his  band  to  surprise  and  capture  Silas.  In 
order  to  make  you  contented  and  willing  to  stay  with 
him,  Reginald  provided  you  with  every  comfort,  and  told 
you  that  story  about  your  being  the  sole  heir  to  the 
property.  He  thought  that  would  serve  as  well  as  bolts 
and  bars  to  keep  you  about  the  rancho,  for  no  boy  in 
full  possession  of  his  senses  would  be  likely  to  run  away 
while  he  believed  that  he  had  a  million  or  two  in 
prospect. 

"  I  was  out  riding  my  route  on  the  night  you  arrived, 
but  old  Juan  was  on  the  Avatch  as  usual,  and  he  knew 
when  you  were  brought  into  the  rancho.  He  frightened 
Richard,  and  made  him  abandon  the  idea  of  carrying 
you  off  to  the  mountains;  and  when  you  fell  down  in  a 
swoon,  he  and  Romez  took  you  back  to  your  room  and 
put  you  to  bed.  It  was  Juan  who  wrote  the  note  you 
received,  and  opened  your  windows  the  next  morning 
before  you  awoke." 

"  I  shall  never  forget  how  surprised  I  was  to  find  that 
some  one  had  been  in  there,"  observed  Julian. 

"  When  I  visited  Juan  the  next  morning  I  found  Silas 
with  him.  They  told  me  what  had  happened  the  night 
before,  adding  that  you  had  just  gone  out  riding  on 
Snowdrop.  1  was  very  much  disappointed,  for  I  had 
hoped  to  meet  you  as  soon  as  you  arrived.  You  see,  to 
explain  how  you  came  by  that  mare,  I  make  my  home 
with  Antoine,  the  herdsman.  When  I  return  from 
Hale's  I  generally  go  there  and  leave  my  horse,  and  then 
set  off  to  visit  old  Juan.  Yesterday  morning  when  I 
went  home  I  found  Snowdrop  missing,  and  Antoine 
told  me  that  Reginald  had  taken  her.  lie  gave  her  to 
you,  and  that  one  move  on  his  part  did  us  more  good 
than  eight  years'  hard  work  has  done. 

"  I  had  an  encouraging  piece  of  news  for  Silas. 
Smirker  had  told  me  that  he  knew  where  father  was 


238  JULIAN  MORTIMER.    . 

confined,  and  the  trapper  and  I,  after  talking  the  matter 
over,  decided  to  arrest  him,  and  force  the  secret  from 
him.  On  the  same  day  he  told  me  this  he  communi- 
cated to  me  another  piece  of  news,  and  that  was  that 
he  had  two  holes  to  his  burrow,  and  a  way  of  escape  to 
be  made  use  of  in  case  of  an  attack  from  the  soldiers  or 
settlers;  and  thinking  that  if  we  concluded  to  make  a 
raid  on  him  when  Silas  came  home,  it  might  be  well 
enough  to  know  where  that  other  hole  to  his  burrow 
was,  I  spent  one  whole  day  in  looking  for  it.  I  discov- 
ered it  at  last,  and  when  I  came  down  through  it  and 
burst  into  his  cabin,  Smirker  was  so  angry  that  he  had 
half  a  mind  to  shoot  me." 

"  He  told  me  about  that,"  said  Julian.  "  But  did  he 
never  suspect  your  identity?" 

"  Never  until  this  morning;  and  then  he  did  not 
suspect  me  at  first,  but  you.  He  was  one  of  those 
who  threw  me  into  the  lake,  and  when  he  learned 
that  I  wouldn't  stay  there,  and  that  I  had  come  back  to 
[Reginald's  rancho,  and  was  cutting  up  dreadful  shines, 
he  became  badly  frightened.  He  often  talked  to  me 
about  it,  and  acknowledged  that  he  was  afraid  that  the 
"  haunt,"  as  he  called  it,  might  take  it  into  his  head  to 
visit  his  cabin.  When  he  saw  us  together  this  morning, 
and  found  out  that  one  of  us  was  a  Mortimer,  he  knew 
the  other  must  be  also,  for  he  says  we  look  exactly  alike, 
and  so  does  Silas.  Hale  and  his  crowd  must  also  see  a 
very  strong  resemblance,  or  else  you  never  could  have 
passed  yourself  off  for  me  in  that  rancho,  where  they  are 
constantly  on  the  lookout  for  treachery.  Smirker  be- 
lieved that  you  were  White-horse  Fred,  and  also  that 
you  were  Fred  Mortimer,  and  the  discovery  he  thought 
he  had  made  alarmed  him  greatly.  He  breathed  much 
more  freely  after  you  had  gone  out,  and  so  did  I. 

"  For  myself  I  should  have  felt  no  fears,  had  it  not 
been  for  one  thing.  I  had  with  me  a  bag  containing 
nuggets,  dust  and  money,  which  I  was  to  deliver  to 
Smirker;  if  he  searched  me  and  found  that  bag  in  my 
pocket,  he  would  know  that  I  had  deceived  him — that  I 
was  the  real  White-horse  Fred — and  my  life  wouldn't 


FRED'S  STORY,   CONCLUDED.  239 

be  worth  a  moment's  purchase.  I  tried  to  dispose  of 
the  bug,  but  lie  detected  me  in  the  act,  and  the  result 
was  just  what  I  expected.  He  called  me  a  traitor.,  told 
me  that  my  time  had  come,  and  was  on  the  very  point 
of  making  his  words  good  when  Silas  appeared.  He 
came  down  the  secret  passage-way  that  leads  from  the 
top  of  the  cliif,  and  arrived  just  in  time. 

"  We  tied  Smirker,  put  him  on  a  horse,  and  started 
to  carry  him  to  our  cave.  As  it  was  rather  early — we 
make  it  a  point  never  to  go  in  and  out  of  the  cellar 
during  the  day-time — we  dismounted  to  wait  until  it 
should  grow  dark.  While  we  were  sitting  in  our  place 
of  concealment,  Richard  came  down  the  ravine,  and  I 
knew  that  he  was  about  to  make  another  attempt  to 
capture  you.  I  hurried  down  the  mountain,  reached 
the  cellar  before  him,  held  a  short  consultation  with 
Juan,  called  Romez  out  of  the  stable  to  assist  us,  and 
by  the  time  Richard  arrived  we  had  a  nice  little  surprise 
in  store  for  him.  I  poured  a  bucket  of  water  over  my 
head — that  was  to  make  me  look  as  if  I  had  just  come 
out  of  the  lake,  you  know — and  Juan,  who  had  on  the 
same  clothes  he  wore  on  the  night  he  was  thrown  over 
the  cliff,  made  himself  hideous  by  putting  a  little  red 
paint  on  his  forehead.  Romez  perched  himself  upon 
the  top  of  the  cellar  wall  with  my  dark-lantern  in  his 
hand,  which,  by  the  aid  of  green  cloth  and  a  wide  band 
of  birch  bark  around  the  bull's-eye,  was  so  arranged 
that  it  would  reflect  only  a  narrow  streak  of  green  light; 
and  when  Richard  came  in  Juan  and  I  were  walking 
across  the  cellar  with  the  light  shining  full  in  our  faces. 
He  had  come  prepared  for  just  such  an  emergency  as 
this,  and  drawing  his  Derringers  from  his  pocket,  he 
fired  them  both  at  Juan;  but  finding  that  the  old  fellow 
didn't  fall  as  he  expected  he  would,  he  threw  down  his 
weapons  and  took  to  his  heels.  I've  got  them  now," 
added  White-horse  Fred,  drawing  the  Derringers  from 
his  boots.  "I  may  have  a  chance  to  try  them  on  Joe 
Hale  to-night,  and  if  I  do  he'll  drop.  There  are  bullets 
in  them  this  time." 

"  Were  there  no  bullets  in  them  before?" 


240  y  ULIA  N  MOR  TIMER. 

"  Not  when  they  were  fired  at  Juan.  You  see,  Richard 
is  too  much  of  a  gentleman  to  do  anything  for  himself 
that  he  can  make  another  do  for  him.  He  thinks  Ithu- 
riel,  his  servant,  can  be  trusted  to  any  extent,  but,  as  it 
happens,  he  is  one  of  the  best  friends  we  have,  and  it  is 
through  him  that  we  have  learned  so  much  about 
Richard  and  his  doings.  Richard  told  him  to  load  his 
Derringers  very  carefully,  adding  that  he  wanted  them 
to  shoot  something  that  had  appeared  to  him  the  night 
before.  Ithuriel,  knowing  very  well  what  that  some- 
thing was,  charged  the  pistols  heavily  Avith  powder,  but 
put  in  no  bullets.  He  came  straight  down  to  Juan,  and 
told  him  what  he  had  done,  and  so  when  Richard 
pointed  his  pistols  at  us,  we  were  not  afraid  of  them.  I 

guess  now  I  have  told Halloo!  There  he  is.  Come 

on,  Julian." 

Fred,  bringing  his  story  to  a  sudden  close,  put  spurs 
to  his  horse,  and  dashed  away  at  the  top  of  his  speed. 


CHAPTEE   XXVIII. 

THE    ATTACK    ON    THE    RANCHO. 


"LILIAN  was  not  long  in  discovering  the  cause 
of  his  brother's  excitement.  It  was  a  white 
horse  which  was  moving  along  the  mountain 
path  a  short  distance  in  advance.  He  ran 
heavily  as  if  almost  ready  to  drop  with  fatigue,  and  car- 
ried on  his  hack  a  man  dressed  in  Mexican  costume. 
The  horse  was  Bob,  and  his  rider  was  Pedro. 

A  race  ensued  at  once.  Bob  was  as  fleet  as  the  wind, 
but  he  was  wearied  with  his  night's  travel,  and  the  pur- 
suers, mounted  on  their  fresh  horses  and  led  by  Silas 
Roper,  who  coiled  up  his  lasso  as  he  Avent,  gained 
rapidly.  The  white  horse  disappeared  in  a  thickly 
wooded  ravine;  but  Silas  and  his  party  soon  came  up 
with  him  standing  motionless  in  the  path,  and  Pedro 
was  seen  darting  into  the  bushes  which  lined  the  base  of 
the  cliff.  An  order  to  halt,  followed  by  the  whistle  of  a 
lasso  and  the  ominous  click  of  three  revolver  locks, 
brought  him  to  the  path  again,  where  he  stood  holding 
his  hands  above  his  head  in  token  of  surrender.  Silas 
and  Romez  dismounted,  bound  the  prisoner  hand  and 
foot,  and  after  concealing  him  behind  a  log  that  lay  at 
the  base  of  the  cliff,  the  party  resumed  its  journey  as  if 
nothing  had  happened,  Fred  leading  the  white  horse. 
As  this  incident  had  been  confidently  looked  for,  it 
brought  no  comments  from  any  one  except  White-horse 
Fred,  who  said,  as  he  resumed  his  place  by  his  brother's 
side: 

"  If  Pedro  had  had  half  the  sense  I  have  given  him 
credit  for,  he  would  have  known  that  an  iron  nag 
couldn't  stand  sixty  miles  in  a  full  gallop  over  such 
roads  as  these.  I  hope  Bob  will  recover  a  little  of  his 


242  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

wind  before  we  reach  Hale's,  for  I  want  to  use  him  then. 
When  we  caught  sight  of  Pedro/"  he  added/'  "  I  was 
about  to  remark  that  I  had  finished  what  I  had  to  say, 
and  would  listen  to  you.  Now,  tell  me  all  about  your- 
self. I  know  you  have  seen  some  exciting  times." 

Julian's  story  was  quite  as  interesting  to  Fred  as  the 
latter's  story  had  been  to  Julian.  It  took  him  fully 
half  an  hour  to  complete  it,  and  by  that  time  they  were 
in  the  vicinity  of  Bale's  rancho.  When  they  reached 
the  chasm  which  had  been  such  a  terror  to  Julian,  they 
dismounted,  and  after  a  short  consultation  had  been 
held,  and  Fred  had  exchanged  his  red  shirt  and  coarse 
trowsers  for  his  brother's  natty  Mexican  suit,  he  placed 
himself  at  the  head  of  the  party,  and  conducted  them 
on  foot  to  Major  Mortimer's  prison.  As  noiselessly  as 
spirits  they  approached  the  building  and  drew  up  around 
the  door.  Not  a  whisper  was  uttered,  for  their  plans 
had  been  thoroughly  discussed,  and  each  one  knew  just 
what  he  was  expected  to  do. 

Having  seen  his  companions  stationed  to  his  satisfac- 
tion, Fred  crept  back  along  the  path  again,  and  dis- 
appeared in  the  darkness.  He  was  gone  nearly  half  an 
hour,  and  then  the  sound  of  horse's  hoofs  on  the  hard 
path  told  his  impatient  friends  that  he  was  returning. 
Louder  and  louder  grew  the  clatter  of  the  hoofs,  and 
presently  Julian  knew  that  it  had  been  heard  by  the 
robbers,  for  there  was  a  movement  in  the  cabin,  and  a 
small  window  beside  the  door,  close  under  the  eaves, 
was  slowly  and  cautiously  opened.  In  a  few  seconds 
the  horse  and  his  rider  appeared  dodging  about  among 
the  thick  bushes  that  grew  on  each  side  of  the  path, 
and  drew  up  before  the  door.  Fred's  whistle  met  with 
a  prompt  response. 

"Ay!  ay!"  exclaimed  the  man  at  the  window. 
"What's  the  matter  now?  Anything  wrong?" 

"I  should  say  there  was,"  replied  Fred  in  a  voice 
that  trembled  with  excitement.  "The  soldiers  have 
sprung  a  trap  and  caught  every  soul  of  us  in  it  except 
the  captain  and  me.  There  isn't  a  gentleman  of  the 
road  left  down  our  way — not  one." 


THE  ATTACK  ON  THE  RANCHO.  243 

The  robber  expressed  his  surprise  at  this  piece  of 
news  by  a  volley  of  oaths  arid  exclamations  that  made 
Julian  wonder. 

He  opened  the  slide  of  a  dark  lantern,  and  allowing  its 
rays  to  shine  out  of  the  window  upon  the  young  horse- 
man, said: 

"  How  can  that  be  possible?  Things  were  all  right 
this  morning — the  captain  said  so.-" 

"Well,  if  you  could  see  him  now  he  would  tell  you 
that  things  are  all  wrong,"  replied  Fred. 

"Where  is  he?" 

"  He  is  hiding  at  Smirker's.  He  sent  me  down  here 
with  a  note,"  replied  White-horse  Fred,  showing  the 
letter  that  Julian  had  received  from  his  father.  "It's 
an  order,  and  an  important  one,  too,  I  guess,  for  he  told 
me  to  give  it  into  the  hands  of  no  one  but  Joe  Hale." 

"Kow  I'll  be  blessed  if  there  isn't  something  mighty 
queer  about  all  this,"  said  the  robber  after  a  little  reflec- 
tion. "  You  had  better  come  in  and  give  an  account  of 
yourself." 

"I  am  perfectly  willing  to  do  that.  Open  the  door, 
and  be  quick  about  it  too,  for  I  am  in  a  hurry  to  get 
through  here.  I  tell  you  I  am  not  going  to  stay  in  this 
country  after  what  I  have  seen.  I  am  off  for  'Frisco 
this  very  night." 

The  robber  was  in  no  hurry  to  open  the  door.  He 
thrust  his  lantern  out  of  the  window  and  took  a  good 
look  at  White-horse  Fred  and  the  animal  on  which  he 
was  mounted;  but  he  could  see  nothing  "wrong  about 
them. 

The  horse,  which  was  covered  with  foam,  stood  with 
his  head  down  and  his  sides  heaving  plainly,  very  nearly 
exhausted.  A  single  glance  at  him  and  at  his  rider's 
pale  face  was  enough  to  satisfy  the  robber  that  there 
was  more  truth  in  the  boy's  story  than  he  had  at  first 
believed. 

"I  guess  you  have  seen  sonic  strange  things,  Fred," 
said  he.  "You're  as  white  as  a  sheet." 

The  boy  had  nothing  to  say  in  reply,  but  told  himself 
that  any  one  would  have  shown  some  nervousness  in  his 


244  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

circumstances.  His  father's  life  depended  upon  the 
movements  of  that  man  who  was  leaning  out  of  the 
window  talking  to  him.  If  he  opened  the  door  all 
might  be  well;  but  if  he  carried  on  all  the  conversation 
through  the  window,  and  kept  the  door  closed,  their 
expedition  would  end  in  failure,  and  Major  Mortimer 
would  be  a  doomed  man.  It  was  no  wonder  that  Fred's 
face  was  pale. 

The  appearance  of  the  horse  and  his  rider  went  a 
long  way  toward  allaying  the  robber's  suspicions;  but 
ever  on  the  lookout  for  treachery,  he  thought  it  best  to 
examine  the  ground  in  front  of  the  rancho  before  open- 
ing the  door.  He  thrust  his  head  and  shoulders  out  of 
the  window  and  held  his  lantern  down  beside  the  wall. 
There  was  some  one  there,  but  the  robber  was  not 
allowed  time  to  see  who  it  was. 

Silas  Roper  was  crouching  close  beside  the  door, 
directly  under  th  window,  and  he  knew  by  the  sudden 
gleam  of  surprise  and  intelligence  which  shot  across  the 
man's  face  that  he  had  been  discovered.  Fred  knew  it 
too,  and  gave  up  all  hope;  but  not  so  Silas.  He  was 
fully  equal  to  the  emergency.  Crouching  lower,  for  an 
instant,  like  a  tiger  gathering  himself  for  a  spring,  he 
bounded  into  the  air  with  the  quickness  of  thought, 
and  seizing  the  robber,  pulled  him  bodily  from  the  win- 
dow to  the  ground,  stifling  his  cry  for  help  by  a  strong 
grasp  on  his  throat. 

"Never  mind  us,"  whispered  the  trapper,  as  his  com- 
panions sprung  forward  to  assist  in  securing  the  pris- 
oner. "I'll  take  care  of  this  fellow,  an'  do  you  open 
that  door  while  you've  got  the  chance." 

Julian  saw  the  necessity  of  prompt  action,  and  so  did 
Romez.  White-horse  Fred  had  told  his  companions  that 
there  was  but  one  man  on  guard  at  a  time  at  Hale's 
rancho,  and  now  that  he  had  been  secured,  the  next 
thing  was  to  make  good  their  entry  into  the  building 
before  the  other  robbers  were  aroused. 

Romez  took  his  stand  under  the  window,  and  Julian, 
mounting  upon  his  shoulders,  dropped  down  on  the 
inside  of  the  stable.  The  locks  and  bolts  with  which 


THE  ATTACK  ON  THE  RANCITO.  245 

the  door  was  secured  were  quickly  but  noiselessly  undone, 
and  Silas  and  his  two  companions  rushed  in  and  fol- 
lowed Julian,,  who,  with  his  revolver  in  one  hand  and 
the  lantern  in  the  other,  led  the  way  to  the  living- 
room. 

Hale  and  his  companion  were  found  fast  asleep  on  the 
benches,  and  were  pounced  upon  and  secured  by  Silas 
and  llomez  before  they  had  time  to  think  of  their 
weapons,  which  were  lying  close  at  hand. 

White-horse  Fred,  having  seized  an  ax  as  be  passed 
through  the  stable,  kept  close  behind  his  brother,  who 
led  him  straight  to  his  father's  prison. 

"This  is  the  door!"  cried  Julian,  scarcely  able  to 
speak,  so  great  was  his  excitement  and  delight — "  down 
with  it!  Come  here,  Mexican!"  he  added,  leveling  his 
revolver  at  the  cook,  who,  having  been  aroused  by  the 
noise,  at  that  moment  came  out  of  the  kitchen;  "you're 
a  prisoner." 

If  the  man  was  too  sleepy  to  comprehend  the  fact  just 
then,  he  became  fully  sensible  of  it  a  few  seconds  later, 
for  Silas  and  Romez  came  bounding  through  the  hall 
and  seized  and  tied  him  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye. 

Fred,  meanwhile,  Avas  showering  furious  blows  upon 
the  door,  and  when  he  had  loosened  the  hinges,  Silas 
placed  his  broad  back  against  it  and  Avith  one  push  sent 
it  flying  into  the  middle  of  the  room.  Fred  and  Julian 
rushed  into  the  apartment  side  by  side,  expecting  to 
find  their  father  waiting  with  open  arms  to  receive 
them,  but  stopped  suddenly  and  recoiled  with  horror 
before  the  sight  that  met  their  gaze. 

The  major  was  sitting  limp  and  motionless  in  his 
chair,  his  chin  resting  on  his  breast,  and  his  hands — 
Avhich  had  been  relieved  of  the  irons,  probably  to  allow 
him  to  retire  to  rest — hanging  by  his  side.  His  face 
Avas  paler  noAV  than  when  Julian  saw  it  a  feAV  hours  be- 
fore, and  at  the  sight  of  it  he  cried  out  in  dismay  that 
they  had  come  too  late. 

"  No,  AVO  hain't  nuther!"  exclaimed  Silas,  raising  the 
insensible  form  of  his  beloved  commander  tenderly  in 
his  arms.  "  Thar  ain't  nothing  the  matter  Avith  him — 
all  he  wants  is  air." 


246  /  UL1A  N  MOK  TIMER. 

Silas  carried  the  major  into  the  living-room  and  laid 
him  upon  a  pile  of  blankets  which  Fred  and  Julian  had 
spread  upon  the  floor.  There  he  left  him  to  the  care  of 
the  boys  while  he  and  Komez  proceeded  to  complete  the 
work  that  had  been  so  well  begun.  Their  first  care  was 
to  ransack  the  building  and  satisfy  themselves  that  no 
one  else  was  confined  there,  and  their  second  to  dispose 
of  their  prisoners  so  that  they  could  be  found  again 
when  wanted.  They  could  not  take  the  robbers  with 
them  when  they  returned  to  the  valley,  for  they  had 
other  work  to  do,  and  must  ride  rapidly.  It  would  not 
be  safe  to  leave  them  in  the  rancho,  for  they  might  be 
discovered  and  released  by  some  of  their  friends.  They 
must  be  gagged  to  insure  their  silence,  and  hidden  away 
in  the  woods  where  no  one  would  ever  think  of  looking 
for  them. 

"When  they  returned  to  the  living-room  after  per- 
forming their  work,  they  found  the  major  standing 
erect  and  holding  his  boys  clasped  in  his  arms.  Hough 
men  that  they  were,  they  were  touched  by  the  sight. 
They  remained  respectfully  apart,  watching  the  happy 
group  and  listening  to  their  conversation,  now  and  then 
glancing  at  one  another,  and  drawing  their  hands 
hastily  across  their  eyes;  but  when  they  went  up  to 
greet  the  major  they  were  the  every-day.  Silas  and 
Romez,  as  calm  and  indifferent,  apparently,  as  they  had 
been  a  few  moments  before  while  dealing  with  the 
horse-thieves. 

Romez  took  off  his  sombrero,  and  said,  "How  do!" 
in  his  imperfect  English,  while  Silas  gave  the  major  a 
military  salute,  and  informed  him  that  he  was  powerful 
glad  to  feel  his  grip  once  more.  The  emotion  was  all 
exhibited  by  the  rescued  man,  who  clung  to  the  faithful 
fellows  who  had  labored  so  long  and  perseveringly  for 
his  release  as  if  he  never  wanted  to  let  them  go  again. 

The  major's  unexpected  restoration  to  his  family  and 
to  liberty  had  a  wonderful  effect  upon  him.  His  buoy- 
ancy of  spirits,  his  strength  and  energy,  returned  at 
once;  and  during  the  ride  homeward,  he  led  the  way  at 
such  a  rate  of  speed  that  continued  conversation  was 


THE  ATTACK  ON  THE  RANCHO.  $47 

quite  out  of  the  question.  He  rode  the  bay  horse  which 
Julian  had  brought  from  Smirker's  cabin,  and  which 
the  boy  regarded  as  his  own  special  charge.  He  knew 
where  the  animal  came  from,  and  he  hoped  at  no  distant 
day  to  be  able  to  restore  him  to  his  rightful  owner. 

After  crossing  the  valley  the  party  made  a  wide  circuit 
through  the  mountains  on  the  opposite  side,  arriving 
just  at  daylight  in  front  of  a  small  cabin.  The  door  was 
forced  without  ceremony,  and  one  of  the  two  men  who 
were  surprised  in  their  beds  was  secured  before  he  was 
fairly  awake.  The  new  prisoner  was  Eichard  Cordova, 
and  his  companion,  who  armed  himself  and  joined  the 
major's  party,  was  Ithuriel,  his  servant.  In  a  little  less 
than  five  hours  Silas  and  his  three  companions  had 
ridden  more  than  fifty  miles  over  rough  mountain  roads, 
captured  eight  desperate  fellows,  and  that,  too,  without 
having  once  been  called  upon  to  use  any  weapon  more 
formidable  than  the  ax,  with  which  White-horse  Fred 
had  cut  down  the  door  of  his  father's  prison.  When 
Julian  thought  of  it,  he  told  himself  that  the  trapper 
was  indeed  a  man  of  action. 

The  major  and  his  party  rode  at  once  to  the  fort,  and 
his  appearance  there  among  the  officers,  with  several  of 
whom  he  had  once  been  intimately  acquainted,  pro- 
duced a  great  commotion.  The  commander  listened  in 
amazement  to  his  story,  and  acting  upon  the  informa- 
tion which  Silas  was  able  to  give  him,  at  once  dispatched 
his  cavalry  to  the  mountains  in  pursuit  of  the  robbers 
who  were  yet  at  large.  The  history  of  the  wrongs  of  the 
major  and  his  family  spread  like  wild-fire,  and  everybody 
who  heard  it  was  astonished  and  enraged.  The  trap- 
pers about  the  fort,  and  the  sutlers  and  miners  flew  to 
arms  to  assist  in  hunting  down  the  outlaws,  and  during 
the  week  following  Julian  and  his  brother  found  ample 
opportunity  to  gratify  their  love  of  excitement.  The 
avengers  did  their  work  quickly  and  well,  and  the  sum- 
mary manner  in  which  the  captured  desperadoes  were 
disposed  of  served  as  a  warning  to  other  lawless  spirits 
in  that  section  for  all  time  to  come. 

At  the  end  of  a  fortnight  the  fighting  was  all  over, 


^48  JULIAN  MORTIMER. 

the  excitement  had  somewhat  abated.,  the  settlers  and 
miners  had  resumed  their  various  avocations,,  and  the 
major  and  his  boys  were  once  more  in  peaceable  posses- 
sion of  their  home,  which  soon  began  to  wear  its  old 
familiar  look  again.  The  high  stone  wall  which  sur- 
rounded the  rancho  was  leveled  to  the  ground,  and 
flowers  planted  where  it  stood.  The  officers  of  the  fort 
visited  there  regularly  as  of  old,  and  the  rooms  which 
had  so  long  been  silent  and  deserted  echoed  to  the  sound 
of  laughter  and  music. 

Everybody  looked  upon  Fred  and  his  brother  as 
heroes.  The  almost  inexhaustible  fund  of  stories  the 
former  had  collected  during  his  connection  with  the 
robber  band,  as  well  as  the  adventures  he  met  with 
while  in  the  performance  of  his  perilous  duties,  were 
listened  to  with  interest  by  all  the  visitors  at  the  rancho, 
and  none  were  more  delighted  with  them  than  the  offi- 
cers who  tried  so  hard  to  capture  him.  He  and  his 
brother  for  a  few  weeks  led  a  life  of  quiet  ease,  for  the 
keen  and  rational  enjoyment  of  which  they  had  been 
fully  prepared  by  their  recent  perils  and  excitements. 
The  time  never  hung  heavily  on  their  hands.  They 
had  much  to  talk  about,  and  when  weary  of  fighting 
their  battles  over  again,  there  were  their  horses,  hounds, 
guns  and  fishing-rods  always  at  their  command.  We 
might  relate  many  interesting  incidents  that  happened 
in  that  valley  before  the  boys  bade  good-by  to  their 
father  and  their  mountain  home  to  become  students  in 
an  Eastern  academy,  but  "  A  Brave  Boy's  Struggles  for 
Home  and  Fortune  "  are  ended,  and  our  story  must  end 
with  them. 

The  few  who  had  remained  faithful  to  their  em- 
ployer during  his  exile  were  not  forgotten.  The  major 
and  his  boys  showed  them  every  kindness  and  attention 
in  their  power,  and  among  all  those  who  had  claims 
upon  their  gratitude  and  esteem  none  commanded  a 
larger  share  than  Silas  Koper,  the  guide. 


THE  BOYS' HOME  SERIES. 

"Uniform    with    this    Volume. 

This  series  affords  wholesome  reading  for  boys  and  girls,  and  all  the 
volumes  are  extremely  interesting.— Cincinnati  Commercial  Gazette. 

JOE'S  LUCK;  or,  A  Boy's  Adventures  in  California.  By  HORA- 
TIO ALGER,  JK. 

JULIAN  MORTIMER;  or,  A  Brave  Boy's  Struggles  for  Home 
and  Fortune.  By  HARRY  CASTLKMON. 

ADRIFT  IN  THE  WILDS;  or,  The  Adventures  of  Two  Ship- 
wrecked Boys.  By  buwAKD  S.  EI.I.IS. 

FRANK  FOWLER,  THE  CASH  BOY.     By  HORATIO  ALGER,  JR. 

GUY  HARRIS,  THE   RUNAWAY.     By  HARRY  CASTLEMON. 

BEN  BURTON,  THE  SLATE-PICKER.     By  HARRY  PRENTICE. 

TOM  TEMPLE'S  CAREER.     By  HORATIO  ALGER,  JR. 

TOM,  THE  READY;    or,  Up  From  the  Lowest.     By  RANDOLPH 

HILL. 
THE  CASTAWAYS;  or,  On  the  Florida  Reefs.     By  JAMES  OTIS. 

CAPTAIN  KIDD'S  GOLD.     The  True  Story  of  an  Adventurous 

Sailor  Boy.     By  JAMES  FRANKLIN  FITTS. 
TOM   THATCHER'S   FORTUNE.     By  HORATIO  ALGER,  JR. 

LOST  IN  THE  CANON.     The  Story  of  Sam  Willett's  Adventures 
on  the  Great  Colorado  of  the  West.     By  AI.FKEO  R.  CALHOUN. 
A  YOUNG  HERO;  or,  Fighting  to  Win.     By  EDWARD  S.  ELLIS. 

THE   ERRAND  BOY;  or,   How  Phil   Brent  Won   Success.     By 

HORATIO  ALGKR,  JR. 
THE   ISLAND   TREASURE;    or,   Harry  Darrel's  Fortune.     By 

FRANK  H.  CONVERSE. 
A    RUNAWAY    BRIG  ;    or,   An    Accidental    Cruise.     By  JAMBS 

OTIS. 
A  JAUNT  THROUGH   JAVA.     The  Story  of  a  Journey  to  the 

Sacred  Mountain  by  Two  American  Boys.     By  EDWARD  S. 

ELLIS. 
THE  KING   OF   APELAND.     The  Wonderful   Adventures  of  a 

Young  Animal-Trainer.     By  HARKY  PKENTICE. 
TOM,    THE    BOOT-BLACK;    or,    The    Road   to    Success.     By 

HORATIO  Ai  GER,  JR. 
ROY  GILBERT'S  SEARCH.     A  Tale  of  the  Great  Lakes.    By 

WILLIAM  P.  CHIPMAN. 

THE  TREASURE-FINDERS.    A  Boy's  Adventures  in  Nicara- 
gua.    By  JAMES  OTIS. 
BUDD  BOYD'S  TRIUMPH  ;  or,  The  Boy  Firm  of  Fox  Island. 

By  WILLIAM  P.  CHIPMAN. 

The  above  stories  are  printed  on  extra  paper,  and  bound 
in  Handsome  Cloth  Ilindiny,  in  all  respects  uniform  with 
this  volume,  at  $1.OO  per  copy. 

For-  sale  bij  all  Bookseller*,  or  trill  be  sent  jMjxt-paid  on  receipt  of  price, 
by  the  publixter,  A.  L.  BURT,  56  lierlnuun  St.,  A'eio  York. 


mil  grarttal 


Why,  When  and  Where.  A  dictionary  of  rare  and  curious 
in  formation.  A  treasury  of  facts,  legends,  sayings  and  their  explan- 
ation, gathered  from  a  multitude  of  sources,  presenting  in  a  conven- 
ient form  a  mass  of  valuable  knowledge  on  topics  of  frequent  inquiry 
and  general  interest  that  has  been  hitherto  inaccessible.  Carefully 
compared  with  the  highest  authorities.  Edited  by  ROBEKT  THOKNE, 
M.  A.  500  pages.  Cloth,  12rao,  price  $1.00. 

"  In  this  book  the  casual  reader  will  be  rejoiced  to  meet  many  a  subject  ho 
has  searched  the  encyclopedia  for  in  vain.  The  Information  is  clearly,  fully 
and  yet  concisely  given."—  tipriiigjielil  Republican. 

A  Cyclopedia  of  Natural  History.  Comprising  descriptions  of 
Animal  Life :  Mammals,  Birds,  Reptiles,  Batrachians  and  Fishes. 
Their  Structure,  Habits  and  Distribution.  For  popular  use.  By 
CHAIILES  C.  ABBOTT,  M.  D.  620  pages.  500  illustrations.  Cloth, 
12mo,  price  $1.00. 

"  The  author  has  shown  great  skill  in  condensing  his  abundant  material, 
while  the  illustrations  are  useful  in  illustrating  the  information  furnished  in 
the  text."—  Times,  Troy. 

The  National  Standard  Encyclopedia.  A  Dictionary  of  Lit- 
erature, the  Arts  and  the  Sciences,  for  popular  use  ;  containing  over 
20,000  articles  pertaining  to  questions  of  Agriculture,  Anatomy,  Archi- 
tecture, Biography,  Botany,  Chemistry,  Engineering,  Geography, 
Geology,  History,  Horticulture,  Literature,  Mechanics,  Medicine, 
Physiology,  Natural  History,  Mythology  and  the  various  Arts  and 
Sciences.  Prepared  under  the  supervision  of  a  number  of  Editors, 
and  verified  by  comparison  with  the  best  Authorities.  Complete  in 
one  volume  of  700  pages,  with  over  1,000  illustrations.  Cloth,  12mo, 
price  $1.00. 

Law  Without  Lawyers.  A  compendium  of  Business  and  Domes- 
tic Law,  for  popular  use.  By  HENRY  B.  COREY,  LL.B.,  member  of 
New  York  Bar.  Cloth,  12mo,  price  $1.00. 

"  The  volume  before  us  is  a  very  convenient  manual  for  every-day  use,  con- 
taining a  general  summary  of  the  law  as  applied  to  ordinary  business  transac- 
tions, social  and  domestic  relations,  with  forms  for  all  manner  of  legal  docu- 
ments."—  Troy  Times. 

Dr.  Danelson's  Counselor,  with  Recipes.  A  trusty  guide  for 
the  family.  An  illustrated  book  of  720  pages,  treating  Physiology, 
Hygiene,  Marriage,  Medical  Practice,  etc.  By  J.  E.  DANELSON,  M.  D. 
Illustrated.  Cloth,  12mo,  price  $1.00. 

"  The  Counselor  is  pure  and  elevating  in  its  morals,  and  wise  and  practical 
in  the  application  of  its  counsels.  It  can  but  be  a  helper  in  homes  following 
its  directions." — Rev'.  J.  V.  Ferguson,  Pastor  M.  E.  Church,  Mohawk,  N.  Y. 

The  National  Standard  History  of  the  United  States.  A  com- 
plete and  concise  account  of  the  growth  and  development  of  the 
Nation,  from  its  discovery  to  the  present  time.  By  EVERIT  BROWN. 
600  pages.  Illustrated.  Cloth,  12mo,  price  $1.00. 

In  this  most  interesting  book  pur  country's  history  is  told  from  the  discovery 
of  America  down  to  the  election  of  Benjamin  Harrison  as  President  of  the 
United  States 

For  sale  by  all  Booksellers,  or  will  be  sent  pout-paid  on  receipt  of  piice,  by  the  pub- 
lisher, A.  I,.  BURT,  5G  Beekman  St.,  New  York. 


and  grartiat 


A  Dictionary  of  American  Politics.  Comprising-  accounts  of 
Political  Parties,  Measures  and  Men  ;  Explanations  of  the  Constitu- 
tion ;  Divisions  and  Practical  Workings  of  the  Government,  together 
with  Political  Phrases,  Familiar  Names  of  Persons  and  Places,  Note- 
worthy Sayings,  etc.,  etc.  By  EVEKIT  BROWN  and  ALBERT  STRAUSS. 
5(55  pages.  Cloth,  12mo,  price  $1.00.  Paper,  50  cents. 

SENATOR  JOHN  SHERMAN  says :  "I  have  to  acknowledge  the  receipt  of  a  copy 
of  your  '  Dictionary  of  American  Politics.'  I  have  looked  over  it,  and  find  it  a 
very  excellent  book  of  reference,  which  every  American  family  ought  to  have." 

Boys'  Useful  Pastimes.  Pleasant  and  profitable  amusement  for 
spare  hours  in  the  use  of  tools.  By  PROF.  ROBERT  GRIFFITH,  A.  M. 
300  illustrations.  Cloth,  12mo,  price  $1.00. 

"The  author  lias  devised  a  happy  plan  for  diverting  the  surplus  energy  of 
the  bov  from  frivolous  or  mischievous  channels  into  activities  that  interest 
him,  while  at  the  same  time  they  train  him  to  mechanical  and  artistic  skill  and 
better  adapt  him  for  success  in  life."— Boston  Journal. 

What   Every   One   Should   Know.     A   cyclopedia  of  Practical 

Information,  containing  complete  directions  for  making  and  doing 
over  5,000  things  necessary  in  business,  the  trades,  the  shop,  the 
home,  the  farm,  and  the  kitchen,  giving  in  plain  language  recipes, 
prescriptions,  medicines,  manufacturing  processes,  trade  secrets, 
chemical  preparations,  mechanical  appliances,  aid  to  injured,  busi- 
ness information,  law,  home  decorations,  art  work,  fancy  work, 
agriculture,  fruit  culture,  stock-raising,  and  hundreds  of  other  useful 
hints  and  helps  needed  in  our  daily  wants.  By  S.  H.  BURT.  516 
pages.  Cloth,  12mo,  price  $1.00. 

"  A  mass  of  information  in  a  handy  form,  easy  of  access  whenever  occasion 
demands." — Inter- Ocean,  Chicago. 

Readers'  Reference  Hand-Book.  Comprising  "  A  HANDY  CLAS- 
SICAL AND  MYTHOLOGICAL  DICTIONARY"  of  brief  and  concise  explan- 
ations of  ancient  mythological,  historical  and  geographical  allusions 
commonly  met  with  in  literature  and  art,  also  "  FAMOUS  PEOPLE  OF 
ALL  AGES,"  a  manual  of  condensed  biographies  of  the  most  notable 
men  and  women  who  ever  lived.  By  H.  C.  FAULKNER  and  W.  H. 
VAX  OKDEN.  Cloth,  12mo,  price  $1.'00. 

"This  book  will  serve  a  useful  purpose  to  many  readers,  and  will  save  time 
lost  in  consulting  dictionaries  of  larger  scope."—  The  Churchman. 

Writers'  Reference  Hand-Book.  Comprising  a  manual  of  the 
"  ART  OF  CORRESPONDENCE,"  with  correct  forms  for  letters  of  a 
commercial,  social  and  ceremonial  nature,  and  with  copious  explana- 
tory matter.  Also  "  A  HANDY  DICTIONARY  OK  SYNONYMS,"  with 
which  are  combined  the  words  opposite  in  meaning.  Prepared  to 
facilitate  fluency  and  exactness  in  writing.  By  JENNIE  TAYLOR 
WANDLE  and  H.  C.  FAULKNER.  Cloth,  12mo,  price  $1.00. 

"  Crowded  full  and  even  running  over  with  proper  and  effective  words  must 
be  the  writer  who  will  not  occasionally  find  this  work  of  great  convenience 
and  assistance  to  him."—  Tin-  IMinmtor. 

For  sale  bij  all  JlmkmUf.r*,  or  will  Itf  wit  jinxf-paid  on  receipt  of  price,  by  thejmb- 
Usher,  A..  L.  SUJtT,  56  Jieehman  St.,  New  York. 


an*  grarttail 


Etiquette,  Health  and  Beauty.  Comprising  "  THE  USAGES  OF 
THE  BEST  SOCIETY,"  a  manual  of  social  etiquette,  and  "  TALKS  WITH 
HOMELY  GIRLS  ON  HEALTH  AND  BEAUTY,"  containing  chapters  upon 
the  general  care  of  the  health,  and  the  preservation  and  cultivation  of 
beauty  in  the  complexion,  hands,  etc.  By  FRANCES  STEVENS  and 
FRANCES  M.  SMITH.  Cloth,  12mo,  price  $  1.00. 

"  It  is  a  handy  volume  to  be  lying  on  the  table  for  reference." — Ziorts  Herald, 
Boston. 

The  National  Standard  Dictionary.  A  pronouncing  lexicon  of 
the  English  Language,  containing  40,000  words,  and  illustrated  with 
700  wood-cuts,  to  which  is  added  an  appendix  of  useful  and  valuable 
information.  600  pages.  Cloth,  12mo,  price  $1.00. 

"  A  convenient  and  useful  book.  Clear  in  typography,  convenient  in  size. 
It  contains  copious  definitions,  syllabic  divisions,  the  accentuation  and  pro- 
nunciation of  each  word,  and  an  appendix  of  reference  matter  of  nearly  100 
pages  is  added,  making  it  the  best  cheap  dictionary  we  have  ever  seen." — 
Courier-Journal,  Louisville. 

The  Usages  of  the  Best  Society.  A  manual  of  social  etiquette. 
By  FRANCES  STEVENS.  Cloth,  16mo,  price  50  cents. 

"  Will  be  found  useful  by  all  who  wish  to  obtain  instruction  on  matters  relat- 
ing to  social  usage  and  society." — Demoresfs  Magazine. 

A  Handy  Dictionary  of  Synonyms,  with  which  are  combined 
the  words  opposite  in  meaning.  For  the  use  of  those  who  would 
speak  or  write  the  English  language  fluently  and  correctly.  By  H. 
C.  FAULKNER.  Cloth,  16mo,  price  50  cents. 

"  Will  be  found  of  great  value  to  those  who  are  not  experienced  in  speech  or 
with  pen." — Brooklyn  Eagle. 

Talks  With  Homely  Girls  on  Health  and  Beauty.  Their  Pres- 
ervation and  Cultivation.  By  FRANCES  M.  SMITH.  Cloth,  16mo, 
price  50  cents. 

"  She  recommends  no  practices  which  are  not  in  accord  with  hygienic  laws, 
so  that  her  book  is  really  a  valuable  little  guide." — Peterson's  Magazine. 

A  Handy  Classical  and  Mythological  Dictionary.  For  popu 
lar  use,  with  70  illustrations.  By  H.  C.  FAULKNER.  Cloth,  16mo; 
price  50  cents. 

"  It  is  often  convenient  to  have  a  small  book  at  hand  in  order  to  find  out  the 
meaning  of  the  classical  allusions  of  the  day,  when  it  is  troublesome  and  cum- 
bersome to  consult  a  larger  work.  This  tasteful  volume  fills  the  desired  pur- 
pose. It  explains  the  allusions,  pronounces  the  hard  names,  and  pictures 
many  of  the  mythological  heroes." — -Providence  Journal. 

Famous  People  of  All  Ages.  Who  they  were,  when  they  lived, 
and  why  they  are  famous.  By  W.  H.  VAN  ORDEN.  Cloth,  16mo, 
price  50  cents. 

"An  excellent  hand-book,  giving  in  a  compact  form  biographies  of  the  per- 
sons in  whom  the  student  and  writer  would  naturally  take  most  interest."— 
New  York  Tribune. 

For  sale  by  all  Booksellers,  or  will  be  sent  post-paid  on  receipt  of  ptice,  by  thtpvb- 
lither,  JL.  I.  KURT,  56  Seekman  St.,  Netv  York. 


lutf  isi  pbnwt  of  the  Grid's; 


The  Essays  or  Counsels  Civil  and  Moral  of  Francis  Bacon. 
First  published  in  1597,  and  as  he  left  them  newly  written  and  pub- 
lished  in  1625.  Including  also  his  Apophthegms,  Elegant  Sentences, 
and  Wisdom  of  the  Ancients.  With  an  introduction  by  HENRY 
MOHLKY,  LL.D.,  Professor  of  English  Literature  at  University  Col- 
lege, London.  Portrait.  12mo,  cloth,  gilt  top,  $1.00. 

They  (Bacon's  Essays)  contain  the  condensed  wisdom  gathered  Curing  the 
whole  long  life-time  of  one  of  the  mightiest  minds  of  modern  times  —Frank 
Parsons. 

Vanity  Fair.  A  Novel  Without  a  Hero.  By  WILLIAM  MAKE- 
PEACE TIIACKKKAY.  Portrait,  12mo,  cloth,  gilt  top,  $1.00. 

As  a  whole  the  book  is  full  of  quiet  sarcasm  and  severe  rebuke.  It  is  replete 
with  humor  and  morality,  and  rivets  attention  to  the  end  by  the  vivid  reality 
of  all  the  persons  and  scenes.—  From  "A  Manual  of  Englwh  Literature  "  by  T  B 
Shaw. 

Other  Worlds  Than  Ours.  The  plurality  of  worlds  studied 
under  the  light  of  recent  scientific  researches.  By  RICHARD  A. 
PKOCTOH.  With  an  introductory  note  by  FRANK  PARSONS.  Portrait. 
Cloth,  gilt  top,  $1.00. 

Like  Huxley  and  Tymlall,  Mr.  Proctor  sees  the  poetry  of  his  subject  and 
knows  how  to  bring  the  largest  truths  within  the  comprehension  of  a  child, 
and  make  the  deepest  researches  as  interesting  to  the  general  reader  as  a 
novel. — Frank  Parson*. 

The  Fifteen  Decisive  Battles  of  the  World,  from  Marathon  to 
Waterloo.  By  E.  S.  CREASY,  M.A.,  Professor  of  Ancient  and  Mod- 
ern History  in  University  College,  London;  late  Fellow  of  King's 
College,  Cambridge.  \Vith  an  introductory  note  by  FRANK  PAR- 
SONS. Portrait.  12mo,  cloth,  gilt  top,  $1.00. 

So  vivid  are  his  descriptions  that  one  feels  as  though  he  v/ere  present  at  the 
scene  himself,  listening  to  the  counsels  of  the  generals,  hearing  the  tread  of 
marching  columns,  watching  the  gleaming  spears  and  bayonets,  armies  of  in- 
fantry, charging  cavalry,  breach,  rally  and  retreat,  deafened  with  the  roar  of 
batteries,  saddened  by  the  death  of  friends,  and  flushed  with  triumph  ;  and  at 
last  the  reader  lays  the  book  away  exhausted  with  the  rush  of  feeling  through 
his  heart,.— Frank  Parson*. 

The  Essays  of  Elia.  By  CHARLES  LAMH.  With  an  introduc- 
tion and  notes  by  Alfred  Ainger,  and  a  Biographical  Sketch  of 
Charles  Lamb,  by  Henry  Morley.  Portrait.  12uio,  cloth,  gilt  top, 
$1.00. 

The  Essays  of  Elia  have  been  characterized  as  the  "  finest  things  for  humor, 
taste,  penetration  and  vivacity  which  have  appeared  since  the  days  of  Mon- 
taigne." In  his  bits  of  criticism  Charles  Lamb  shows  a  most  delicate  and 
acute  critical  faculty  ;  in  his  few  poems,  much  grace  and  sweetness,  but  first 
and  foremost,  he  is  an  essayist  of  rare  power.  The  refined  wit,  genuine  pleas- 
antry, deep  and  tender  pathos,  and  subtle  discrimination  of  his  essays,  are  un- 
excelled by  any  compositions  in  the  language.—  Robert  Thome. 

Essays.  By  RALPH  WALDO  EMERSON.  First  and  second  series. 
Portrait.  12ino,  cloth,  gilt  top,  $1.00. 

He  exercised  a  great  power  over  nien  ;  he  brought  thorn  wide  comfort,  and 
to  him  more  than  to  any  man  of  his  time  belongs  the  glory  of  having  taught 
them  that  life  was  worth  the  living.— From  the  "  Optimum  if  Emerson,"  by  U'. 
F.  Dana. 


For  sale  by  all  ltookxflle.ru,  or  trill  be  tent  //oxf-/>ai/l  on  receipt  of  price,  by  the  pub- 
lisher, A.  L,.  HURT,  HO  Beekman  St.,  New  York. 


f  g  ptorif  of  the 


Past  and  Present.  By  THOMAS  CARLYLE,  with  an  introductory 
note  by  Robert  Thorne,  M.A.  Portrait.  12rao,  cloth,  gilt  top,  $1.00. 

Ilis  (Carlyle's)  bidding  is  to  do  the  allotted  work  of  life  silently  and  bravely. 
and  there  is  probably  no  person  who  has  not  gained  strength  by  the  reading  of 
his  strong  and  earnest  writings.—  Robert  Thorne. 

The  History  of  Civilization  in  Europe.  By  FRANCOIS  PIERRE 
GUILLAUME  GUIZOT.  Translated  by  William  Hazlitt,  with  a  bio- 

fraphical  sketch  of  the  author.     Portrait.     12mo,    cloth,  gilt  top, 
1.00. 

These  lectures  made  a  profound  impression  at  the  time  they  were  delivered 
and  published,  and  indeed  marked  an  epoch  in  the  history  of  education,  rais- 
ing the  reputation  of  their  author  at  once  to  the  highest  point  of  fame,  and 
placing  him  among  the  best  writers  of  Prance  and  of  Europe.—  Robert  Thome. 

Ivanhoe.  A  Romance.  By  SIR  WALTER  SCOTT,  Bart.  Reprinted 
from  the  author's  edition,  unaltered  and  unabridged.  Portrait. 
12mo,  cloth,  gilt  top,  $1.00. 

Ivanhoe  is  one  of  the  most  famous  and  brilliant  of  all  the  master  romances 
of  Sir  Walter  Scott,  who  is  placed  by  many  at  the  head  of  modern  novelists. 
.  .  .  The  breadth  and  power  of  Scott's  style  and  his  charm  as  a  story-teller 
are  too  well  known  to  need  comment,  and  in  this  volume  we  have  him  at  his 
best.—  Robert  Thorne. 

The  Vicar  of  Wakefield,  The  Traveller,  and  The  Deserted 
Village.  By  OLIVER  GOLDSMITH.  With  a  Life  of  Goldsmith  by 
WILLIAM  BLACK,  Portrait.  12mo,  cloth,  gilt  top,  $1  00. 

The  style  is  easy  and  delightful.     The  humor  is  delicate  and  all  good  humor; 
there  is  hardly  a  trace  of  satire  or  ill-nature  in  the  whole  book,  which  is  a  true 
expression  of  the  spirit  of  Goldsmith  himself,  one  of  the  most  lovable  person-' 
alities  in  the  world  of  letters.—  Robert  Thorne. 

The  Discourses  of  Epictetus,  with  the  Encheiridion  and  Frag- 
ments. Translated  with  notes,  a  life  of  Epictetus,  a  view  of  his 
philosophy,  and  index.  By  GEORGE  LONG,  M.A.  Portrait.  12mo, 
cloth,  gilt  top,  $1.00. 

Great  purity,  sustained  reflection,  wealth  of  illustration  and  allusion,  vivid 
revelations  of  character  and  brilliant  bursts  of  eloquence,  mark  the  utterances 
of  this  great  teacher  and  insure  their  immortality.—  Frank  Parsons. 

The  Crown  of  Wild  Olive  and  Sesame  and  Lilies.  By  JOHN 
RUSKIN,  LL.D.  Portrait.  ISino,  cloth,  gilt  top,  $1.00. 

As  a  great  and  fearless  leader  of  thought  and  antagonistic  to  many  features 
of  our  social  order,  he  is  naturally  the  object  of  much  violent  criticism,  but  is 
warmly  admired  and  loved  by  a  great  part  of  the  reading  world,  and  coming 
ages  will  accord  him  his  due.  He  has  told  the  world  new  truth  and  the  world 
will  grow  up  to  his  majestic  stature.  —  Robert  Thorne, 

The  Meditations  of  the  Emperor  Marcus  Aurelius  Antoninus. 
Translated  by  GEORGE  LONG,  M.A.,  with  a  biographical  sketch  and 
a  view  of  .the  philosophy  of  Antoninus  by  the  translator.  Including 
also  an  essay  on  Marcus  Aurelius  by  Canon  Farrar.  Portrait.  12mo, 
cloth,  gilt  top,  $1.00. 

"  The  noblest  book  of  antiquity  "  is  Canon  Farrar's  estimate  of  the  "  Medita- 
tions of  Marcus  Aurelius;"  and  his  regard  is  shared  by  thousands  who  have 
been  made  better  and  truer  men  by  the  ennobling  influence  of  the  great  soul 
and  lofty  character  of  this  pagan  emperor.  —  Robert  Thorne. 

For  sale  by  all  Booksellers,  or  will  be  sent  pout-paid  on  receipt  of  price,  by  (he  pub- 
lisher, A.  L,.  BUJKT,  56  Jicektnan  St.,  New  York, 


Surfs  ffilmmi  ot  thi  World's  g?$t  goofes. 

Faust.  By  JOIIANN  WOLFGANG  VON  GOETHE.  Com])lete  in  two 
parts.  Translated  by  Anna  Swauwick.  Portrait.  Cloth,  gilt  top, 
$1.00. 

Deeper  meanings  are  discovered  with  every  reading,  and  familiarity  does 
not  cause  it  to  grow  trite,  but  ever  the  more  strongly  to  lay  hold  on  the  soul 
with  the  irresistible  fascination  of  an  eternal  problem  and  the  charm  of  an 
endless  variety.  —  Hubert  Thome. 

The  Sketch-Book  of  Geoffrey  Crayon,  Gent.  By  WASHINGTON 
IKVING.  With  an  introductory  note  by  FKANK  PAKSONS.  Portrait. 
Cloth,  gilt  top,  $1.00. 

The  book  is  refined,  poetical  and  picturesque,  full  of  quaint  humor,  exquis- 
ite feeling,  and  a  thorough  knowledge  of  human  nature.—  Frank  Parson*. 

Lorna  Doone.     A  Romance  of  Exmoor.     By  K.  D.  BLACKMOKE. 

ISnio,  cloth,  gilt  top,  $1.00. 

These  wonderfully  reproduced  scenes,  and  the  men  and  women  with  whom 
they  are  peopled,  and  finally  the  beautiful  language  in  which  the  narrative  is 
set  forth,  unite  to  make  a  delightful,  and,  what  is  more,  a  wholesome,  invigo- 
rating, inspiring  book.  —  E.  S.  Hau'e*. 

Hypatia,  or  New  Foes  with  an  Old  Face.     By  CIIAKLES  KINGS- 

LKV,  F.S.A.,  F.L.S.     Portrait.      12ino,  cloth,  gilt  top,  $1.00. 

The  plot  is  well  developed,  the  characters  are  vigorously  drawn,  and  the 
scenes  and  incidents  show  great  dramatic  power,  while  the  language  and 
word-painting  are  exquisite.  The  book  holds  throughout,  with  a  firm  grasp, 
our  sympathy  and  interest,  Kingsley  being  one  of  the  very  few  who  have  suc- 
ceeded in  throwing  a  strong  human  interest  into  a  historical  novel.  —  Robert, 
Thorite. 

Romola.  By  GEOKGE  ELIOT.  Portrait.  12mo,  cloth,  gilt  top, 
$1.00. 

George  Eliot  is  admitted  by  thoughtful  persons  to  have  been  endowed  with 
one  of  the  greatest  minds  of  this  century.  .  .  .  Komola,  which  is  one  of 
her  earlier  works,  is  also  one  of  the  most  popular.  The  movement  is  so  rapid, 
and  the  situations  are  so  dramatic,  that  the  interest  never  flags  ;  .  .  .  the 
book  has  nowhere  the  air  of  tiresome  preaching,  but  it  stands  the  test  of  a 
great  novel  —  it  may  be  read  again  and  again  with  pleasure.  —  E.  S.  Iluicen. 

The  Data  of  Ethics.  By  HEKIJEKT  SPENCEK.  Portrait.  12uio, 
cloth,  gilt  top,  $1.00. 

Herbert  Spencer  is  the  foremost  name  in  the  philosophic  literature  of  the 
world.  He  is  the  Shakespeare  of  science.  He  has  a  grander  grasp  of  knowl- 
edge and  more  perfect  conscious  correspondence  with  the  external  universe 
than  any  other  human  being  who  ever  looked  wonderingly  out  into  the  starry 
depths  ;  and  his  few  errors  flow  from  an  over-anxiety  to  exert  his  splendid 
power  of  making  beautiful  generalizations.  Plato  and  Spencer  are  brothers. 
Plato  would  have  done  what  Spencer  has  had  he  lived  in  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury.—  From  "  The  Wfrrld'n  Best  Jlnokx,"  by  Frank  Purixnix. 

The  Origin  of  Species,  by  Means  of  Natural  Selection,  or  the 
Preservation  of  a  Favored  Race  in  the  Struggle  for  Life.  By 
CIIAKLES  DAHWIX,  M.A.,  LL.D.,  F.H.S.  Portrait.  12mo,  cloth, 
gilt  top,  $1.00. 

This  book  is  the  grandest  achievement  of  modern  scientific  thought  and 
research.  It  has  passed  through  many  editions  in  English,  has  been  translated 
into  almost  all  the  languages  of  Europe,  and  has  been  the  subject  of  more 
reviews,  pamphlets  and  separate  books  than  any  other  volume  of  the  age.— 


For  sale  by  aH  Booksellers,  or  will  be  Kent  poxl-pu'ul  on  receipt  ofjirlcf,  by  the  pub 
Usher,  A,  L,.  ItURT,  50  Jievkman  St.,  JV>«'  York. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


Form  L9-42»n-8,'49(B5573)444 


THE  LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 


Julian  Mortimer, 


PZ7 

F78j 


